Hide the sun
by magyarova
Summary: The story follows Sasuke's path under Orochimaru's guidance. The wiliest of the Sannin comes up with a new jutsu for Sasuke's Sharingan: a mind reading technique. The road to mastering this new skill that would most probably turn the tide in his favor against Itachi is a long and difficult one, but it may alter how fate plays out. Yaoi, OroxSasu
1. Prologue

**Hide the sun**

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Naruto or anything else that is included in the anime or manga.

Warnings: Rated M for violence, language (occasionally, can't help it when Sasuke swears :/) and adult situations later on. Mature readers only, please. This is an Orochimaru/Sasuke fiction. Hardcore Itachi or SasuNaru fans might want to avoid this story. :P

A/N: Think of this as a "what could have been", if certain things had happened differently. I tried to make it as realistic as I could, but then again, this is my take on their personalities. Reviews would be more than welcome. ^^

* * *

**Prologue**

It began as a mere petulant outburst.

"I've had enough of this tedious, gutless way of living. Always in the shadows, slinking and slithering underground like pathetic worms, from one hole, littered with your deplorable experiments and moronic underlings, to another. If I had known the legendary Sannin were this weak and miserable, I wouldn't have bothered..." I railed on and on, heedless of the steadily widening grin on his face.

Roughly one year had passed since my departure from Konoha. Although the days, weeks and months elapsed in an ill-defined jumble of diverse locations, trainings and detestable memories.

The memories...

More often than not, I found myself ensconced in the modest but private rooms that were, thankfully, always reserved for me, the weight of the abhorrence I felt for Itachi gnawing at me mercilessly, occasionally inducing a feverish, near-catatonic state of which Kabuto had to jolt me out. I had always been prone to this deplorable state of mental and physical helplessness from time to time, ever since my cursed childhood. As to why it had been happening more frequently since I left the village, I was clueless. Luckily, Orochimaru had never walked in on me while affected by such. He had never commented on it either, obviously uninterested in my personal wretchedness.

In fact, he scarcely approached me, apparently content just watching me. And watch me he did. Constantly.

"You have yet to teach me anything truly powerful. Yes, I find the Kusanagi moderately useful, as well as the kenjutsu. They never taught that in Konoha. But all this time I've spent here, and I'm still no closer to understanding my Sharingan's true potential...At this rate..."

I thought about Itachi. His disdainful, dispassionate words the last time we'd met. _"I have no interest in you right now."_ His loathsome whisper after he beat me so I was wobbling on the edge of consciousness._ "You are weak. Why are you weak? Because you lack hatred."_

"Damned Sandaime...I'd rather he had dragged you to hell with himself than leave you here...incapable and crip-"

A worn-out humph cut my tirade short.

"Are you quite finished, Sasuke-kun?" he paused for effect, waiting for an affirmation or negation I was certainly unwilling to give. I straightened up and released the hilt of the Kusanagi, not entirely sure when I'd dropped into a fighting stance.

His body relaxed in his chair, and, setting aside the illegibly scribbled scroll he'd been studying, his narrow snake-like pupils focused solely on me.

I barged in on him in his own chamber and without summon—an act that would have been bound to result in severe punishment had it been anyone but Kabuto…or me, as it turned out. It was by far the most agreeable room in this complex located within the Fire country's boundaries, with numerous bookshelves, cupboards, a table and a bed, all in a very simplistic but not tasteless style. Lighting, as everywhere, was provided by candles.

"Good. Now...as you might imagine, helping you train your Sharingan is not something I can easily accomplish. I, myself, am capable of basic genjutsu, none of which comes even close to your brother's level of expertise."

His tongue flickered out to lick his bloodless lips in unequivocal greed. I repressed a snort.

"Itachi's Tsukuyomi, Amaterasu...oh, you are familiar with them, aren't you?" he noted, eyebrows arching quizzically upon seeing the twitch in my jaw "His Susanoo even?"

I shook my head, feeling my eyes widen unintentionally at the mention of yet another, no doubt insanely powerful skill of Itachi. Just _how_ had he risen to such a peerless level?

"Hmm. Well, he shall grace you with the experience the day you finally face him, I am sure." he chuckled "It is a highly effective defensive jutsu, a gigantic, humanoid shield that encompasses the whole body but allows using techniques from the inside."

I compressed my lips into a reserved smile.

"I want it. How do I awaken it?" I asked point blank, failing to quell the avidity—startlingly similar in nature to that glint in his eyes a moment ago—that streamed from my voice despite my efforts.

"Alas, that remained a mystery to the majority of the Uchiha themselves. Despite the extensive research I have done on the issue, and a few experiments I conducted on living subjects, I found nothing."

"Living subjects?" I narrowed my eyes in anger "You used members of my clan as your guinea pigs?"

He merely snickered, the bastard, an amused smile plastered on his pallid face.

"Let us not fight over things of the past, especially if they are this insignificant. Besides, whatever knowledge I have acquired will now serve you quite well, won't it, Sasuke-kun?" he cocked his head to the side.

"That's exactly what I want to see." I stated, a hint of annoyance creeping to my voice "Whether you're going to be of any use to me, after all."

"Hmph. I just might." he slanted his eyes at me, the way he always did when he knew he had an ace hidden up his sleeve, something I would be unable to resist.

"However, I have had no possible means to put my theory into practice. It still needs...testing and tons of refinement."

"Just what are you talking about?" I urged him on impatiently, fidgeting with the violet obi fastened around my hips.

He paused for another second, no doubt intent on getting on my nerves as much as he could.

"I have a theory on how to improve the Sharingan...and develop an absolutely new jutsu for it."

Suddenly, the world seemed to narrow down to the heavy pounding in my ears. Wild possibilities began chasing each other in an unruly dance inside my head. Perhaps a jutsu that combines the Sharningan's unparalleled defensive and offensive abilities? A Susanoo composed of the black flame of Amaterasu? Or a genjutsu surpassing even Tsukuyomi's effects? Perhaps a technique to manipulate time? Or space?

"So how about it, Sasuke-kun?" Orochimaru practically purred, amber eyes twinkling mischievously. How he relished being in charge, being the one holding the leash."Would you be my guinea pig?"

It wasn't an actual question, as he only cherished the instant resolution on my face for a moment before standing up and sauntering past me towards the door. "We begin tomorrow morning, here in this room." his weak hand clutched the doorhandle, but he tarried to say "And what you've said about slithering underground…well, feel free to venture to the surface. Just don't wander _too_ far." he slanted a sharp glance at me and left me alone in his chamber.

Even though our time together so far had proved to be but mildly fruitful, I was well aware that Orochimaru had a penchant for pushing the limits and crossing the boundaries of what was normally considered 'permissible' in the delicate arts a ninja may immerse himself in. In other words, he had absolutely no qualms about tampering with forbidden jutsus. This was the exact reason why I'd come to him. Because if I ever hoped to surpass Itachi in terms of skill, then Konoha, with its moderate concepts of how prospective ninjas should be trained, was out of the question. My sole chance to succeed was to follow Orochimaru to the forbidden.

It was needless of him to warn me not to attempt escaping or attracting unwanted attention. He had me hooked and the idea of failure not even as much as flitted through my mind.

After all, this man had perfected a forbidden technique that granted him immortality.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: Although this is chapter one, it's still a bit prologue-ish. Following chapters will be longer and the plot will be set in motion. ;)

**_Chapter 1_**

声殺して 目を塞いで 闇に溺れて 彷徨って  
鋭利な君の声を胸に  
全てを闇に

Dir en grey - Kodou

* * *

"You are early. Good, it shows your determination. You will definitely need that." Orochimaru stood from the table, stretching his back and shoulder muscles, though his arms kept dangling limply, and paced forward until he was about six feet from me.

"Now. It's time for you to reveal your theory." I stated with as little emotion as I could, disinclined to betray my eagerness. The less he sensed about me, the more secure I felt.

He momentarily knitted his brows at my command but made no remarks.

"Let's start from the basics. What _is_ essentially your Sharingan? No, let me rephrase that. What is essentially the Uchiha clan's Sharingan?"

"An eye technique that can be awakened exclusively by members of the Uchiha bloodline."

I crossed my arms on my chest and leaned against the wall as I answered.

"The characters literally meaning _copy wheel eye_, it endows its user with several uniquely beneficial abilities. First, it grants a supreme perception of the opponent's movements, allowing the user to detect, parry or recreate ninjutsu, taijutsu or even genjutsu. Secondly, it makes the opponent's chakra flow visible, which entails many advantages from determining an attack's source before it's even realized, to instantly recognizing if someone is under the effect of a genjutsu."

"The effects you have described fall to the category of the Sharingan's Eye of Insight ability."Orochimaru interjected with a slight nod "Go on."

"The Sharingan is also a tool for powerful genjutsu, able to inflict pain and induce paralysis."

My mind flashed back to the illusion Itachi had trapped me in, where every house, every achingly familiar door and window existed only to double, triple the anguish of watching people I'd been living surrounded by be sliced down and collapse lifeless.

With a firm blink of my eyes, I waved the unpalatable memory away.

"Another commonly used feature is a sort of mind-infiltration, meaning the user may suggest actions or thoughts to the opponent, ultimately reaching a state of total control if the user is skilled enough. The Mangekyou Sharingan…"

"That is sufficient for now." Orochimaru interrupted me with a nod "The latter effects can be categorized as the Eye of Hypnotism abilities. Let's move on. Do you understand the importance of the Sharingan's pattern?"

The three-bladed shuriken pattern in Itachi's eyes the last time we met...

"It changes its shape according to the level of development. At first, there's but a single tomoe, then two, three, and after that… I haven't seen many of _those_." I admitted with a sudden sense of discomfort.

"I believe it varies from user to user. Right now, you possess two tomoes in each eye. If we are to make any advance with your Sharingan, you need to reach the next stage first."

His posture was rigid, motionless as he spoke. It caused an ache in his arms to move them, I'd found out a long time ago. It seemed to me that he hardly even blinked, his gaze riveted to me.

"Then I will use it during every training from now on. And then…?"

I felt mildly frustrated that he kept questioning me but would not explain why.

He quirked his lips into a sly smile.

"Hmm. How much do you know about mind reading?"

"Not much." I blinked, confused. "One of my peers, Yamanaka Ino…her father is among the best of interrogators in Konoha. I assume it means he can read minds fairly efficiently to have earned that title."

"Yamanaka Inoichi. Indeed. He is a member of Konoha's Intelligence Division. It is an organization in charge of acquiring information from shinobi for the sake of the village."

"How is that relevant for us?" I burst out, finally having had enough of missing the link between his inquires.

"It is relevant because you are going to combine your Sharingan with mind reading."

I gaped at him for a long minute, uncomprehending as to how that would be possible or why I would want it in the first place. What I needed was an array of powerful jutsus that could catch Itachi off-guard. Secretly, I'd been wishing Orochimaru would come up with an alternative way of procuring Mangekyou Sharingan. But this…

Setting up a priority among the questions swirling in my head, what I first asked was "Why?"

He chuckled in amusement, apparently having foreseen my puzzlement.

"Don't you want to discover the most deeply lurking fears of your brother? To unfold the enigma of the day he decided to slaughter his entire clan but leave his sibling alive? To see past his wall of lies and-?"

"How do you know he was lying?"

My tone was crude and icy which seemed to amuse him even more.

"He is a heartless monster and not the brother I imagined him to be."

"He massacred his family, his blood to test his own capabilities? That is the reason of a deranged madman, not a brilliant member of the Anbu. Whatever his motivation was, it must have been something of the highest value to him."

A feral growl escaped my throat and I balled my hands into fists by my sides. His grin waned a trifle, but he showed no other sign of acknowledging my steadily growing rage. The cursed seal on my neck pulsed, and within it Orochimaru's own chakra stirred restlessly.

I didn't want to talk about Itachi. I didn't want _him_ to talk about my betrayer brother. His existence was mine, a burden of my own, one that I clung to with adamant insistence. I felt an inexplicable, compulsive need to appropriate him, the bane of my existence, a twisted sense of intimacy. And I was resentful of anyone so much as mentioning his name.

Itachi's death was _mine_, the sole desire and dream that had been keeping me going for the past years. A thirst unending, always pushing me forward.

For Orochimaru to imply that I had been delusioned all this time, and the truth lay hidden beneath an intricately woven web of lies, was insulting.

The only truth I recognized and accepted was vengeance.

_"If you want to kill me, curse me, hate me. And live a long and unsightly life. Run away, run away, and cling to your pitiful life. And some day, when you have the same eyes as me, come before me."_

Through the suffocating crimson mist that engulfed my senses, a solitary sane thought occurred to me.

"How do you know what Itachi told me that night? I never shared it with you." I barked at him.

Orochimaru, his face devoid of any emotion by then, slowly walked to the cupboard and opened a drawer, grabbing a small, round container. Facing me again, he stepped to me, expression endlessly tranquil.

"Kabuto told me of your...nightmares."

His voice had changed. It rang...softer, considerate to the point it almost sounded sympathetic, with no sarcastic or amused edge to it. Not even pitiful. Just simply... soothing.

It unbalanced me.

"You often talk while he administers the medicine to rouse you. Always that same gory memory, the same harsh words."

He reached his arm out, and without thinking, I lifted mine. He dropped the tiny container into my palm, and though the glass was an opaque brown, I could hear the rustling of pills inside.

"Take one before you retire to rest. It's a light soporific. Your mind will be at ease, and yet you will be able to sense if something or someone would...disturb your sleep."

His expression was unfathomable. I understood then, instinctively, that he spoke out of experience.

I stared at the small bottle of medicine in my hand in silence for a while. When I opened my mouth to speak again, I was calm.

"So how do I combine the Sharingan with mind reading?"

The familiar grin returned, creeping up almost to his ear on the right side of his face, where the candle light hardly extended to. An eerie, crooked smile.

"The basic principle is this. The Eye of Insight, in a manner of speaking, perceives the _outside_, be it one's chakra flow, ninjutsu, taijutsu or inferior genjutsu. The Eye of Hypnotism penetrates the _inside_, tampers the mind with words, memories or even torment of your own choosing. What we want is an amalgamated effect of the two, an Insight of the Mind or a Reversed Hypnotism if you will."

I furrowed my eyebrows.

"Why will this be superior to the talent that Ino's father possesses?"

The candle flickered as a breeze rolled into the room, repainting the haunting smile on the immortal shinobi's face into a gaping rictus.

"Because we are talking about a Sharingan. You will read through the thoughts of any opponent from shallow impressions to covertly cherished dreams as effortlessly as one reads a scroll. With a single, piercing glance. What is that if not one of the greatest powers one can have over human beings?"

At last, my own lips curved into a smile.

The possibility to peek behind Itachi's impassive mask, to learn what he dreads the most...to obtain a key to avenging my clan completely and utterly.

Nothing would appease me more.

And one more thing… I wanted to feel it for myself. My brother's emotions when he executed his own kin, along with the people who'd raised, loved and trusted him more than anyone in the world. Because in order to crush and erase the memory of my fake brother in my heart, I needed to bathe myself in the inhuman cruelty that formed the core of his true nature. I was aware that this was a pitiable weakness on my part, meaning that something inside me was still clinging to his false image, as though remembering his lies served any reasonable purpose. However, I couldn't help thirsting for this kind of closure. The living and breathing Itachi had to die along with the one inside my memories.

"Remember this, Sasuke-kun. No matter how detached or cold-blooded a shinobi may seem, _everyone_ has a vulnerable side, an aspect of frailty that they try to conceal and bury deep under the wards of resolution, endurance or plain insanity. Your brother is no exception."

What was that? With a shrug I disregarded his remark.

"What do I do until the third tomoe awakens in my eyes?" I queried, my voice all but hoarse from excitement.

"I will subject you to intensive training. We will hone your command over fire and lightning to improve your Chidori and Goukakyuu no jutsu. I shall also teach you new techniques. And your Sharingan...you will be provided with sufficient opportunities to practice."

"How long until I reach the state you described?"

He squinted slightly in consideration.

"Years, probably."

I frowned at that, but refrained from expressing my displeasure otherwise. He let out a soft chuckle, which could almost be interpreted as fond compared to his usual malicious cackle.

"Don't be impatient, we have an _ample_ amount of time. Two years or so before I have to transmigrate to your body."

His amber eyes glimmered perilously.

I huffed and rolled back my eyes, crossing my arms on my chest once more.

"I don't care about that. If by that time, I don't deem my progress satisfying enough, you won't have me."

The ashen face contorted into a warning scowl but I took no heed.

"So put your other experiments on hold, or leave them completely to Kabuto, for all I care. From now on, you focus on _me_ alone."

Faster than lighting, I was flattened to the wall. The sole indicator that Orochimaru had moved—the fluttering of shadows on the walls as the candles' flames wavered. Without my Sharingan and in the close proximity we had formerly been, I couldn't register his snake-like leap.

He leaned in close, teeth bared in a snarl as I was pinned from head to toe against the wall, his hand—no doubt in great pain from the exertion—and body keeping me from escaping. My hands flew to his in an instant, trying desperately to pry them off my neck, to no avail.

"I don't need your permission for anything, kid. You only survived in the Forest of Death because I saw potential in you. Your life belongs to me now, never forget that."

A blunt pain enveloped my throat as I choked helplessly for air under his viselike grip, feeling his hot breath puff against my, no doubt, swiftly reddening cheeks. My eyelids slipped close, consciousness drifting farther and farther with each painful second.

An agonized groan reached my ear—good, he is aching too—followed by a faraway warning.

"And if you think about ordering me like a dog again, I just might carve your pretty eyes out and have them implanted into another body I take, discarding yours here, in one of the cells to rot."

I was finally dumped to the floor and I doubled over in a fit of violent coughs.

"Training chamber. One hour." he rasped, his cold voice faltering from apparent pain as he sneaked out of the room, in the direction of Kabuto's lab, unmistakably in order to have his sore hands treated.

How I wished his arms would decompose.

For the next hour—after several minutes of lying hunched against the wall Orochimaru had almost throttled me at—, as I finally scrambled to my feet to sullenly pad towards the training chamber and wait for my ill-tempered teacher, I even forgot about my loathsome brother.


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: Reviews are candy. ^^

**Chapter 2**

なぜに笑う そんな哀れむように見るなよ

壊せ壊せ 君が悪い

真昼に凍えながら

Buck-tick - Chikashitsu no melody

* * *

After Orochimaru's theory had been revealed, time flew by in the same indiscernible pace. However, it held more significance for me, as each day I spent with vigorous training brought me closer to my ultimate goal.

Orochimaru didn't turn out to be a waste of time, after all. Even without his arms, he proved to be a commendable opponent each time he himself deigned to combat me, which, I must add, he did palpably more frequently than in the past year.

Only on days when he felt exceptionally drained, due to the Third Hokage's curse, did he pass me to his small-fry underlings of Otogakure, settling to merely observing me from behind. Not that he ever actually admitted to being overly exhausted or feeble to fight me. I would have killed him the instant he did.

That one occasion in his room was never brought up again. He returned to his usual sardonic-grinning self, and I went back to questioning him on every turn and showing little to no respect to the legendary shinobi, to which he scarcely retorted in the annoyingly indignant manner as Kabuto did when he was within earshot.

I had no doubt he was wearing a mask when he was around me, tolerating my barely concealed insults with uncanny lenience, and smiling all the more blithely whenever it became clear to him that I was testing his limits. The mask was, however, impervious to me. Why a man who had been and was continuously tormenting a veritable array of lesser ninjas for the sake of his own, exclusive benefit, would take my slanders without so much as a frown...

Of course, he regarded me as his next vessel, a virtually impeccable container for his soul, I was well aware, but it still baffled me why he wouldn't make good on his threat and slice my most important organs out, spending his efforts on searching for another, stronger and perhaps more pliant body.

The respites between training I dedicated to one of two things: even more training and collecting data on Orochimaru.

The former meant venturing to the surface, finding an adequately isolated spot and practicing jutsus, as well as doing physical exercises to improve my stamina.

The latter consisted of acquainting myself with Orochimaru's prisoners in each of his lairs, peeking into his experiments—this one only feasible when Kabuto wasn't around—, and researching a method to defeat the immortal shinobi in the future.

Unlike him, I intended to make good on my promise. In case things didn't go according to my plans, and I couldn't face Itachi even after Orochimaru was done imparting his knowledge, I would put him out of his misery.

His experiments comprised extracting the DNA of countless ninjas capable of different techniques and surgically implementing them to living subjects. I encountered users of all five nature elements, alive and kicking but kept in cages, guarded by some of the more fanatic followers.

Like the talented chakra-sensor Karin, who supervised the Southern hideout.

In one of the small glass containers of the complex in Fire country, I also stumbled upon the DNA of an Otogakure female, who possesses the unique bloodline technique of crystal release.

All I could get, of course, was a glimpse of his projects, I couldn't begin to imagine what else he was storing in some of the more secure corners of his lairs.

Another advantage of inspecting his experiments was tentatively assessing which of his prisoners could become valuable allies should I decide to dispose of Orochimaru and face Itachi without him.

In the Northern hideout, I found that he was keeping a peculiar individual called Juugo under lock and key. Though I was in no position to approach his cell and talk to him, the other inmates revealed that he was prone to sporadic surges of rage, said to originate from the abundance of natural energy that he absorbs. Though certainly a burdensome man, if there was a way of keeping him under control, he may be an asset.

It happened in approximately another six months that my Sharingan evolved to the next level.

Orochimaru had promised an extraordinarily strenuous training during which I would need to use the majority of the jutsus I knew. This excited me, in no small part due to the fact that we were currently staying in a temporary lair of Wind country, one that I particularly despised because of its narrow corridors, airless, damp chambers and lack of covering vegetation on the outside, forcing me to constantly hover inside.

When I finally faced the immortal shinobi in the battle ring, several feet underground, I would have been content practicing plain kenjutsu, I was so consumed by boredom.

"Ready?" he asked, eyes glinting in anticipation.

Instead of answering, giving in to the temptation of inciting a full-on, unrestrained fight, I initiated our combat with a swift Chidori. My arm prickling from the sensation of lightning waves, the many thin, bluish white threads of pure energy whirling around my wrist like tiny snakes, I charged at him and drove my hand through his stomach in one fluid motion.

My eyes snapped to his face and I could savor the expression of incredulity and horror written on those pale, sculpted features. The acrid smell of burnt flesh filled my nostrils. My own stomach did a somersault as the result of delight and dismay in equal proportions.

Did it work? Was _that _really all? Have his reflexes deteriorated to such degree...?

The answer to my questions was provided by the disintegrating figure of my teacher, literally bisected from the power of my attack, which suddenly reconnected its two halves via a bundle of small snakes springing forth and seaming his body together.

The terrified glaze of his eyes vanished in a second, replaced by sheer smugness.

Before I could put a safe distance between us, a swarm of snakes shot out of his mouth, their minuscule jaws opened wide, venomous fangs pointed straight at me.

My body reacted quicker than it took for the realization to hit me that if those bite me, I will collapse paralyzed in a matter of minutes, and the sharp blade of Kusanagi razed off the reptiles' heads before they reached my face.

Taking advantage of that brief span of time while he couldn't yet launch another attack, I backflipped away from him and immediately countered with Katon, Goukakyuu no jutsu, which expanded to the whole chamber, scorching even the thick earthen walls.

It wasn't that I aimed to kill him. But if he were to be defeated by a fourteen-year-old, he deserved to perish.

When the flames subsided, my Sharingan fell on his shell. Incinerated beyond recognition, but as I foresaw based on the still perceptible and very much steady stream of chakra under his skin, his mouth split open, and an unscathed body slipped free and began to slither towards me at a dazzling speed.

"Sen'ei jashu!" I yelled, and four lightning-quick snakes emerged from under my sleeve, coiling around his approaching form and effectively halting him.

Though my summoned snakes could not produce the same paralyzing venom as his, a physical restraint was all I needed at the moment.

I yanked my arm back as forcefully as I could, and he came tumbling forward. Kusanagi held tight in my other hand, I channeled my Chidori into the blade and slashed at him with a ferocious growl.

My sword clashed into his. In the last second, he regurgitated his own Kusanagi and blocked my strike, his weapon protruding from his mouth. The corners of his mouth were tilting upwards around the glistening blade, forming a crafty smile, it seemed to me.

Batting my sword away, he jerked his head to the side and cleaved the snakes binding him in half, regaining his ability to move freely.

I prepared for another attack, aiming low for his thighs this time—the place he could least effectively protect due to the inconvenient position of his Kusanagi and where I could do the most damage by injuring.

His lean body curved like that of a snake and he bowed his head in one smooth motion, deflecting my blade.

Not wasting a second, with the most speed I could muster I aimed at his head again.

To no avail. He successfully repelled each of my pre-calculated and precise strikes as he arced and stretched, arms dangling without much use.

After several failed attempts to so much as scratch him, I released the hilt of my sword with my left hand and put it on my pocket, ready to grab my kunai. To divert his attention, I whirled and consecutively slashed at various parts of his body from neck to ankle. He moved from instinct, I surmised, for his violently fluttering ebon hair must have obscured his vision badly.

When I felt that the timing was adequate, I went for his neck from an angle he could only block by slightly bending his knees, turning his head to the left and tipping it mildly upwards, exposing his right side entirely in the process.

I drew my kunai in the blink of an eye and was certain I would plunge it deep into his stomach.

The only indication was a quiet hiss. Right as the tip of the kunai grazed his garbs, my arm was stopped by three small snakes, spiraling around my wrist in a tight grip. Three further snakes wove themselves around my neck and my right hand each. My eyes jumped to his left hand, where the snakes had poured out from, up his sleeve.

I felt my lips twitch in annoyance, shortly quirking into an involuntary grin nonetheless.

Of course, he had anticipated the concealed attack and had been ready to counter with his favored Sen'ei jashu. However, he must have summoned the reptiles in advance, else they wouldn't have been quick enough to halt my kunai. I had been too careless. I had been so absorbed in planning the move and focusing on his neck and right side that I overlooked the fact that his arms did have some use, however little it may be. But then again, the way he himself neglected them, swinging them around sloppily like two cumbersome chunks of flesh, I was thrown off-scent.

I had to give him credit for managing his defense so deftly despite his handicap and even turning the tides in a moment's notice.

I raised my gaze to meet his. Amusement danced in his amber orbs, even as he was short of breath and beads of sweat trickled down his forehead.

"Not even with your Sharingan?" he chuckled, Kusanagi still in his mouth "How pitiable. Perhaps I overestimated the Uchiha clan's skills..."

The snakes around my neck tightened their hold as he spoke, and again I found myself in the vexing situation of slowly choking.

"Don't… speak about my clan as though... you knew every hidden strength we have." I growled as I desperately tried to squirm out of his grip, lifting my leg to kick at him, make him lose his focus somehow but he continuously kept me at a distance, and soon I saw dark spots before my eyes.

"Do you have any, Sasuke-kun? I don't doubt Itachi has some nasty forbidden jutsus in store for worthy opponents. But you...you just lack his talent, don't you? The less gifted of the two brothers, you are." his dark pupils narrowed viciously, suffocating me ever harder "Too bad I only get to have the weaker one..."

My eyes darted from his face to his hands, torso, legs, searching for an opening, anything that could help me free myself of this aggravating situation...until finally, I dropped my weapons and struggled even harder against my binds, fidgeting and forcing him to elongate his snakes. Just as the darkness was about to veil my entire vision, I was able to put my hands together and hastily form the necessary seals: snake, ram, monkey, boar, horse, tiger.

Orochimaru raised a brow.

I gathered what little air was left in my lungs and exhaled with full force, blowing forth a sphere of fire that instantly reduced the snakes around my neck to ashes. The small fireball should have hit him in the face with our close proximity, but he immediately released my wrists and backflipped to a safe distance, somehow snatching up my Kusanagi in the process.

Hungrily gulping for air, I bended over to pick up my kunai—stained by a single drop of blood at the tip—and holding it up, I was ready to attack again.

"I always take you breath away, don't I." he laughed heartily, then suddenly squatted down to the floor and opened his mouth wide. Hundreds of tiny snakes streamed forth, slithering towards me.

There were too many to cut them all down. Instead, I cut my own finger with the kunai, performed the five seals, then touched my hand to the ground. "Kuchiyose no jutsu."

It was a smaller hawk than I would have liked, but I didn't dare use up too much chakra. Still, it was adequately strong to lift me up into the air. I grabbed onto its clawed legs and it ascended on its brown wings, stopping to float high above the wriggling-undulating jade sea of snakes.

When the entire ground was covered with reptiles and the hissing grew so loud it hurt my ears, Orochimaru finally closed his mouth and leisurely straightened up, my sword still in his sloppily clenched hand.

He looked me in the eye then and revealed his teeth in a predatory smile.

I knew what was coming, and I wasn't mistaken.

He opened his mouth once again and his own Kusanagi emerged from his throat. Not taking it out, he set to lengthening his neck vastly, and the sword came flying towards me along with his head.

My hawk fluttered away from him, keeping me from harm while I was waiting for the opportune moment and angle to punch him with my Chidori-infused—the third this day, my painfully depleting reserves of chakra reminded me—fist without getting sliced.

Unfortunately, it never came. The grotesque chase ended with him severing one wing of my hawk, and I plummeted onto the living carpet below me.

Even as I was falling, I began channeling lightning chakra into my left hand so when I was enveloped by the myriad of snakes I flung my arm in as many directions as I could, electrocuting the endless serpent waves.

I couldn't keep it up for longer than half a minute, though. My command of elemental chakra wasn't developed enough yet.

Too exhausted to so much as move, I sat still while the snakes coiled around my body, trying to catch my breath.

Orochimaru had previously retracted his neck, swallowed his Kusanagi and was watching me with a cunning grin on his lips. By his feet, a particularly large snake was in the process of devouring my maimed hawk.

"You give up so early and so easily? You wouldn't last a minute against Itachi in your current state." he purred.

"That's why...you should train me to be...stronger, you bastard." I panted, pissed off in no small measure that he was mentioning Itachi again.

"Alas, I cannot grant you talent." he sneered, and in the next moment his smile grew colder and crueler as he spat vitriol at me "You are a disgrace, an eye-sore compared to the genius that is your brother. I can see I am wasting my time with you. Even one of my own Oto ninjas would be a better choice than you. You lack potential. No wonder Itachi left you alive... Why waste his efforts on such a feeble, mediocre kid."

I was seething and shaking with fury. All throughout my childhood I had been measured up to my elder brother, my progress had been evaluated in contrast to his, and each and every turn I disappointed those around me. He would fascinate people, including me, with his extraordinary aptitude and I, the second in line, could never live up to the shining example he had set.

Always, always the same disappointed look from my clan, especially from father. Though they rarely voiced their dissatisfaction, those looks alone had been enough to etch a frantic desire to be recognized into my heart. Along with a natural envy for my beloved brother, who never glanced at me that way.

After _that_ night, the love I felt for him transformed fully into a boiling hatred and Itachi became my mortal enemy. To be disparaged in contrast to my brother, when ever since _then_, each minute I had spent seeking a way to grow more powerful in order to kill him one day, it fed the flames of my anger with twice the fervor.

Somewhere, in the recesses of my mind, I must have been aware that what Orochimaru said couldn't per se be more than a frivolous taunting. I knew he deeply yearned to possess my body, and he wouldn't have tolerated me for this long if he truly believed I was weak beyond help. But his spiteful words combined with my fatigue and helplessness in the clutch of his snakes spurred me into white hot rage.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP AND DIE!" I bellowed and made a snap decision.

I activated the cursed seal. I never did that during training owing to the insufferable exhaustion that always followed this invigorated state.

My shirt slipped off my shoulders as my wings started to form on my back and my hair began to grow. The chakra boost was immediate and a rather welcome feeling in my sore limbs. I strained against the snakes encircling me fast and ripped them to pieces out of sheer strength.

The remainder mass of serpents stormed at me, but using my kunai, I shred them methodically, one by one, as I could perfectly see and even predict from their zigzagging where and when they would strike. The power of the seal had never been this effective.

Once I was surrounded by but a heap of sliced sneak corpses, I charged at Orochimaru. That annoying smile—I wanted to erase forever.

I cumulated lightning chakra into my left hand again, and produced an enhanced Chidori. This would undoubtedly be the last time I could use it today even with the increased amount of chakra I gained.

I raced forward with a dazzling speed and thrust my hand into his stomach like I'd done at the beginning of the training.

To my great frustration, though I ruptured his abdomen and burned his flesh severely with my attack, his mouth gaped wide and an intact body escaped from within his throat. I snarled at his fleeing form, which glided promptly to the other side of the room, and had half a mind to attempt another Chidori—the possibility that it could prove to be fatal if it consumed all of my chakra escaping my fury-addled brain—when he halted and turned back to me.

"Stop it. The purpose of this training has been achieved."

"Not until you lie dead." I growled, flexing my hands in anger.

"You _cannot_ kill me, Sasuke-kun." his smile turned almost fond and his voice sounded so delighted it twisted my insides "But that is beside the point now. Your Sharingan is ready. _You_ are ready."

I raised my brows in surprise. What was he...?

"Did you not notice the difference?"

I gazed at my hands in wonder. I was ready? Somehow during our fight I became stronger and didn't realize it?

"Ah, you thought it to be the result of the cursed seal." he nodded in comprehension "Unfortunately, the Ten no juin is not _that_ potent. It was your Sharingan that allowed you to destroy my serpents so easily. I noticed it immediately...the third tomoe has awakened."

And I finally understood. Why that smaller sea-worth of snakes felt so simple to overcome. I had been able to foresee the angle and timing of their attacks from the slightest twitch of muscle, the miniscule tilt of their heads, and with so many targets simultaneously. The power of the Sharingan is truly impressive.

As my body returned to its original state, and the chakra granted by the seal left me, I was overwhelmed by an intense surge of weariness. I sank to the floor in a half-kneeling position, supporting my throbbing head with my palm, feeling utterly drained. As to be expected, the unpleasant consequence of the cursed seal.

"Rest now. You have done well." Orochimaru stated, and I glanced up at him in wonder.

He had never praised me before.

I caught his eyes for a moment and they mirrored satisfaction indeed. But something in there... shimmered in a foreign way as his gaze roved over my bared shoulders, no doubt marred by bruises the serpents had caused.

Before I could name what it was, he turned on his heels, and made toward the door, leaving me fairly certain that I had imagined that strange glint.

"We will begin working on your Dokushin Sharingan in two days. Be here at the same time." he instructed and without looking back left the battle ring.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

I, I, I will battle for the sun, sun, sun  
And I, I, I won't stop until I'm done, done, done

Placebo - Battle for the sun

* * *

In two days I was back in the now cleansed and tidied up training chamber.

I was excited. The last insufferably long months had all been leading up to this point. Since my Sharingan had evolved to the next level two days ago, it had already been worth it. However, the prospect that I could obtain something not even Itachi had, engraved serious expectations into my mind. Should the experiment fail I wouldn't have qualms about killing Orochimaru for it.

He had already been waiting for me with another shinobi I hadn't seen before. The man, probably in his thirties, was sporting Otogakure's mark on his headband, and was wearing the trademark purple obi of the village. His garments were grey and long, not leaving an inch of his body uncovered. A black mask concealed the lower part of his face, leaving only a pair of piercing emerald eyes glinting from under the long black strands of hair that framed and partially concealed his face.

I kept my expression as emotionless as I could. They didn't need to know how eager I was to begin.

"You have come, Sasuke-kun." Orochimaru greeted me with his usual gleeful grin "You are much looking forward to this, I presume..."

"Let's just start already." I huffed and eyed the unfamiliar ninja, who had been sizing me up ever since I entered the chamber.

"This is Katsumi, the best interrogator of Otogakure. He is well versed in the art of mind reading and shall play a vital role in our little experiment."

Said ninja tilted his head in greeting in a barely noticeable way, eyes still focused on me.

"I thought _you_ will be the one teaching me..." I noted somewhat coldly.

"Not in this instance, Sasuke-kun, though I appreciate that you are so attached to me." he murmured with mock affection.

I snorted in contempt at the notion, which he, of course, ignored.

"Unfortunately, I never immersed myself in this area. I have my spies and that proved to be sufficient enough until now. But don't worry, I'll be here, observing you and your progress the whole time. To be able to conduct an experiment on a Sharingan...it's exceptionally intriguing."

Considering it as a cue to begin, Katsumi finally took his searching eyes off me and turned to the immortal shinobi.

"Orochimaru-sama. You might wish to take a seat if you truly intend to stay here. This will take a while..." he offered humbly, his voice surprisingly ordinary despite his untamed appearance.

"I shall when I feel like it. Now, start."

"Of course." Katsumi returned his gaze to my face, and I activated my Sharingan.

"First of all, to make things clear, I do not possess a Sharingan."

"Obviously." I interjected, crossing my arms on my chest.

He blinked once. "Therefore, I can only explain to you the basics of mind reading and it will be entirely up to you whether you can apply that knowledge and merge it with your own doujutsu. In addition, not everyone is capable of learning dokushin jutsu. It requires a certain...sensitivity, an aptitude for deeper insight, a highly-developed intuition and the keenness of the mind."

He paused for a second.

"Orochimaru-sama believes that you _are_ endowed with these traits. If that's the case, you do stand a chance, but you'll need to be persistent. Do you understand?"

I nodded in comprehension.

"Good. Now, the first step, and this is something you'll have to do and repeat for a long time to come, is meditation."

With that, he sat down to the floor, cross-legged, and looked up at me, expecting me to follow his example.

I did. Orochimaru, eyes boring into my Sharingan, remained standing.

"Free your mind of every memory, every emotion and eventually, every thought. Take your time, because this is essential. Your head needs to be completely empty to proceed."

"Hmph..."

"Be silent and do as I say." he ordered strictly, and I had to repress another huff.

"As I've already said, mind reading is not easy to perform. Not only in terms of technique but it also consumes a significant amount of time if the reader is not skilled enough. For beginners, it takes about a minute to grasp a single thought of the victim. I, myself, am capable of going through a day-worth of memory in one hour. Some are said to be able to do the same in mere minutes. With the help of a special technique-enhancing device, it is possible in seconds."

"I assume this device is of a considerable size." I inquired with a frown, and the ninja nodded.

"Evidently, I can't bring it with me to battle...and I don't have _minutes_ to spare in order to crawl into the enemy's head while they are constantly attacking me. So how would it work at all?"

Katsumi minutely squinted his eyes, but whether he was annoyed by my interruption or something else, I couldn't tell because of the mask.

Finally, it was Orochimaru who answered.

"Actually, dokushin jutsu is rarely used on the battlefield, precisely because it takes too much time. You, Sasuke-kun, are a special case. The whole point of the experiment is finding out if it's possible to combine it with your Sharingan and creating a worthwhile jutsu."

My frown deepened. "Why do you suspect it's even possible? How do _you_ know so much about the Sharingan?"

His smile intensified. "I've had your clansmen to experiment on, remember?"

"You..." I snarled and was about to stand up when Katsumi cut in, bowing his head slightly.

"Forgive me, Orochimaru-sama, but it wouldn't be wise now to anger him. He has to liberate himself of his boiling emotions, else it's useless for me to go any further."

The damned snake-man snickered in amusement, then nodded. "Proceed then."

Katsumi turned to me again. "Turning back to our original topic, time is a delicate matter with this technique, but with experience, I assure you, it can be reduced to a great extent. Don't concern yourself with this now."

He released a soft sigh.

"Have you ever been subjected to mind reading, Sasuke-kun?"

"No." I answered curtly.

"Then I will show you how it feels. I will extract a recent memory from your mind. See if you can sense what I am witnessing. Not everyone can."

He scooted closer to me and lifted his right hand.

"Lower your head, please." he instructed.

For a moment, I hesitated, wanting to ask why physical contact was required when Orochimaru had promised mind reading through_ a single glance_. But I swallowed the question and did as I was told. The answer would have been the same as before: I was a special case.

Katsumi placed his palm on my head and closed his eyes.

As soon as he touched me, I felt it, not so much as saw it. He chose the memory of when he'd begun talking about dokushin jutsu, up to the point where Orochimaru had told him to proceed. I was relieved he refrained from digging into my past to recall more personal memories. The way I perceived the intrusion into my brain could be best described as _vague_. It was as if the memory had popped into my head out of the blue, unexpected and inexplicable, but at the same time, it was somehow more fragile and fortuitous than a normal reminiscence. Transparent in a manner of speaking, like the undercurrent of a thought. A hazy impression. I didn't see it as it had happened in actuality, I glimpsed at singled out images, heard only parts of the dialogue, and relived my own emotions at the time, and from those alone I remembered exactly what had transpired during those minutes. In a manner of speaking, it refreshed the memory, but not to the degree that it pervaded my whole mind... a very uncommon sensation.

"Well?" he asked, quirking a brow, as he removed his hand from me.

"You picked the beginning of our meeting. I felt it all."

Katsumi inclined his head in consideration. "That is a good sign. I opted for a recent memory because I wanted to test how responsive you are to mind reading...and you've exceeded my expectations. You see, the depth of the infiltration is an important variable. The more recent or unguarded the memory is, the less likely it is for the subject to notice the user's activity _and_ it entails less strain on the latter's part. If we are talking about a more ancient or covert recollection, it both necessitates more effort, time and arouses awareness more easily."

"The same goes for thoughts. For instance, I was able to sense your relief at my not venturing too far into your mind. I picked it up without difficulty because one: you made no attempts at obscuring it and two: the thought emerged simultaneously with my presence inside, meaning I didn't have to go back in time."

"The best way to imagine the human brain's operation is in _layers_. Some thoughts are shallower, more on the surface, some we scarcely even realize. Some memories we return to frequently and thus keep at readily accessible parts of our brain, some we bury as deep as possible."

"For a mind reader, it's all a matter of travelling between these layers."

"Sounds simple enough..." I commented, shrugging.

"It's not." Katsumi replied sharply "Unlike a book, the brain's layers are not numbered. There is no _map _to help you navigate. You must firmly rely on your instincts and if you slack off or get too engrossed in the complex swirl of a person's inner world, it will take forever to discover anything valuable."

"Now." he fidgeted in anticipation "Enough theory. From now on, you shall enter a deep state of meditation, as I said before, through the absolute voidance of your mind. Whenever you feel all set, put your hand on my head and look for stray thoughts, momentary impressions. For now, I will not resist. Ah, and also...as you must have noticed when I executed the jutsu on you, it is customary to close your eyes to facilitate the concentration. However...I would advise you try to keep them open...it might help you fusing the technique with your Sharingan later. Any last questions?"

"What about my chakra?" I asked, rather puzzled as to how this was a ninjutsu at all.

"You must gather it into your brain, the same way you do to your legs when you wish to walk on water. And when you perform the technique, you release and steer it towards me through your arm. Unless you can cross the threshold to my mind in that minuscule span of time, your chakra will be wasted. Anything else?"

I shook my head resolutely.

Katsumi nodded and slightly lowered his head like I had done, freezing completely still in that position.

For about a whole minute, I was taking deep breaths and exhaled slowly, hell bent on doing this thing right. I gave my all to concentrate on letting everything go: my anxiety, my eagerness, the restless thumping of my heart, the faint aching in my injured shoulders, Itachi...

Unfortunately, the numerous pieces of information the Oto ninja had provided about dokushin jutsu continued to whirl in a ceaseless cycle in my head. The depth, the layers, the instincts, the chakra...

More minutes passed...

Eventually, through great exertion I actually managed to empty my head by means of paying meticulous attention to my own breathing. In and out, in and out...in and out. All the while stacking up chakra in my brain.

I raised my arm and reached for Katsumi's head.

However, that small movement somehow focused my attention on my surroundings. I became aware that Katsumi hadn't shifted so much as an inch since he'd bent forward. Such patience...no wonder he was excelling at mind reading.

Next, I became conscious of that pair of black sandals, bandaged calves and dark pants in my peripheral vision...Orochimaru's legs. He was standing stock-still, just as immobile as his underling. His watchful gaze... was affixed on me. I could feel its raw intensity even though his face was far out of my line of sight. He could have been looking at Katsumi, or some scroll or even the ceiling in boredom, but no... With a puzzling and unsettling certainty, I _knew_ he was peering at me from behind the curtain of his raven black hair.

It was exceedingly frustrating.

Katsumi cleared his throat. "Orochimaru-sama...forgive me, but you are distracting Sasuke-kun. And I can hardly blame him." he temporarily bowed his head lower in absolute reverence.

How did he know...?

The immortal shinobi scoffed. "This is not the time to be shy..."

I gnashed my teeth in annoyance.

"It'll be easier on him later. But right now, it would be best to give him a little space..."

I lifted my face and gestured dismissively toward the pallid man. "You can stay, I don't really care. Just stand behind me and don't breath down my neck." I markedly ignored Katsumi's outraged, sharp gasp at my tone.

Orochimaru caught my eyes before complying with my wish and smiled in a, frankly, disturbing way. "I'll be behind you...Sasuke-kun."

An unpleasant shudder went through my body at the suggestive tint of his voice.

Once again, I sank into concentration in earnest.

I piled up a reasonable amount of chakra in my brain and achieved to more or less void my mind.

I reached out and placed my hand on the back of the Oto ninja's skull.

In a few seconds, I made up my mind to let loose the bundle of chakra reeling stimulatingly in my head.

As I did...

Nothing happened. Nothing at all. I couldn't sense so much as a word from Katsumi. I retracted my hand in bitter disappointment.

"Don't be ashamed, no one succeeds at first try." the sitting shinobi hurried to comfort me, emerald eyes glancing up at me in sympathy.

"Don't patronize me." I spat in reply and recommenced the meditation at once.

...

My endeavors remained fruitless until the end of the training, by the time I lost an extensive amount of chakra.

"Tomorrow, at the same time." was all Orochimaru said, not seeming particularly downcast about my failure.

He was probably fairly used to negative results.

The following day, we went through the same exasperating process. As well as the day after that and then each day until the end of the week.

"You are applying too much chakra, Sasuke-kun." Katsumi noted once, rubbing and stretching his sore neck after one straight hour of my continuously futile efforts "If you portioned it up better, you wouldn't tire yourself out so fast."

"The problem is not the chakra but your ineffective method." I muttered under my breath, shifting my own numb legs and changing my posture to restore proper blood flow to my limbs.

"It'll work. Just don't give up." he shrugged and before long he was bending forward again.

Don't give up. The phrase itself, as well as the unexpected, whimsical beat to his tone—no doubt an effect of our both physically and mentally demanding sessions—suddenly reminded me of Naruto. I was mildly surprised to find that I was all but utterly unaffected by his memory, along with that of the whole team seven. It meant no more than a temporary phase of my past. A starting point.

Although...there _was_ one thing I felt grateful for, to Naruto. He had been able to fulfill the role of a perfect rival. His determination spurred me forward at times, and the fear that he might become better than me provided an excellent motivation.

Perhaps one day I'll thank him for this.

Contrary to what he'd promised, Orochimaru wouldn't always grace us with his presence. Not that I wanted to complain. Apparently, he realized this was going to take a long, long time and deemed it better to occupy himself with his other experiments or whatever he did when he wasn't inspecting me. Even when he was present, he was mainly busy studying scrolls, leaving me suspicious he was only attending to witness and savor my vexation as a means of entertainment.

After the first week or so, it wasn't every day that I practiced with Katsumi anymore. Orochimaru saw it fit for me to fall into an alternating pattern of days spent with dokushin jutsu and others with our usual practice, polishing the techniques I already knew.

As it was, I trained almost every day, which had an ambivalent, twofold result.

For one, I had much less time for rest and other inevitably necessary actions, such as collecting data on Orochimaru. Even when I was finally allowed to respire, strength drained, brain mushed and body throbbing, more often than not, I was content curling up on the bed in my private room, rather than risk being discovered by Kabuto in one of the chambers I had no veritable reason to be.

Of course, I still seized every opportunity I got to learn more about my peculiar teacher, however little that might be. And the opportunity presented itself quite frequently, since the other result of my new training schedule was that I came to be in his proximity almost every day.

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, as the commonplace saying goes. I was no fool and I didn't delude myself into thinking that the wiliest of the Sannin was my friend, in spite of his close attention and enigmatic tolerance of my now habitual, unveiled disrespect. No, I had absolutely no doubt that Orochimaru was my enemy.

"Too slow. You take too much time with your Chidori. You should consider expanding your lightning attacks' range." he suggested on one of our trainings, after I obliterated the giant snake he'd summoned with, so far, my strongest jutsu.

I bent forward to support myself on my knees, swallowing huge gulps of air. "And how do I do that?"

"Instead of compressing elemental chakra around your fist, you let it swell. The same way as you can manipulate the size of your fireballs."

He crossed his arms and casually leant against the wall of the chamber.

I idly wiped my sweaty forehead. "I have been commanding fire since I was six. Lightning...it was Kakashi who taught me that, right before I was to face Sabaku no Gaara on the chuunin exam. It still doesn't come so...naturally to me."

I didn't mean it as an excuse. After all, I saw no sensible reason why I should make excuses in front of him. But then I had no idea why I felt the need to share that piece of information at all.

After a short span of silence, I glanced up at him. "Were you regarded as a genius when you were a kid? Or were you stumbling in the shadow of someone greater?"

Like I had been.

He arched an inquisitive eyebrow and gazed at me pensively for a minute before answering.

"The former."

I averted my eyes, suddenly feeling unaccountably cold inside.

"But I was never satisfied with what I was." he added after a brief pause "It was never the Sandaime's faith in me, or our frivolous rivalry with Jiraiya that pushed me forward...but my own ridiculously high expectations. In a sense, I _was_ suppressed and concurrently incited by a shadow. Perfection."

"Your parents-" I chanced the question but he cut in before I could fully form my inquiry.

"Had nothing to do with that. They'd died when I was young. I was on my own, grew up being on my own. If I leave Sarutobi-sensei's care out of consideration, that is."

His lips curled into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

My breathing having returned to normal, I straightened up.

"If he was truly concerned about you, then why did you kill him?"

He cocked his head to the side and frowned, fingers twitching as if startled.

"He didn't share my views."

I sneered "Is that all? At least you had someone who cared for you..."

"He was too sentimental for his own good and turned a blind eye to my...transgressions for far too long, as well as remained ignorant of their purpose."

"Which was...?"

"Seeking the way to perfection." his eyes flashed with a deep fire I'd hardly seen before "Through extensive knowledge comes perfection, surely you understand this."

I shook my head in total incomprehension. It wasn't the reasoning but his motivation itself that I couldn't stomach.

"Why are you so obsessed with being perfect?"

"Why are you so obsessed with taking revenge on your brother?" he countered promptly, the didactic edge of the question irritating me even more than the content.

"Because he slaughtered my clan."

This time, he shook his head.

"No. That's the root cause but not what stimulates you directly."

I gaped at him. Just what the hell was he talking about?

"What stimulates me is that I _want_ to kill him..." I uttered slowly as if talking to someone retarded.

"It's an inner constraint then." he nodded, pleased and not the least bit offended.

"I don't get why there's a significant difference whether I want to end him because of what he did or how it _makes me feel_ what he did..."

"Because if you weren't the Sasuke I know, you could put it behind you, huddle up somewhere he is unable to touch you, weak and grateful that you have been spared at all." he smiled, wetting his lips with his thick tongue "This Sasuke cannot imagine such a thing. It comes from deep within his spirit, his vindictiveness. And he takes what he wants, just like I do."

I lapsed into silence for a while, mulling over his words.

"So what you're saying is that it's in my nature that I would avenge my clan."

"It's your very essence. As mine is that I seek to hold everything, to unravel all the secrets of existence and thus achieve perfection."

I sighed resignedly and rubbed my aching temples.

"It pretty much means we're both irreversibly screwed up, doesn't it?"

Propping his head against the wall for balance, he erupted in a rollicking laughter that vibrated through his whole body.

As I bent down to pick up my Kusanagi, which had been lying dumped and forgotten on the floor, I couldn't repress a covert, faint smile myself.

My enemy. Despite the appearances.

* * *

A/N

**Rosebunse: **Sorry about that, I'm still new to publishing and I accidentally selected the wrong document at first. :P Thank you for taking time to review. ^^


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

白夜の空を 我 朱に染め逝く魂よ

黄泉彷徨える 我 百鬼夜行を逝く魂よ

Buck-tick - Muma the nightmare

* * *

The first breakthrough I hit with mind reading occurred about a month following Katsumi's very first lesson.

By that time we had changed locations twice, and were currently lodged inside a limestone hill's carved out belly in the Earth Country, near the border to Amegakure. Not all parts of the cave were artificial. The wide corridors and certain spacious chambers—mostly reserved for equipment and subjects of experimentation—were ornamented by hanging and standing dripstones, like hundreds of long, sharp spikes, creating a perilous atmosphere that I found strangely agreeable.

The training chamber was, of course, cleared of such adornments, the walls, floor and ceiling chiseled relatively smooth.

I was sitting on the ground, cross-legged, eyes trained on my own hand resting on Katsumi's skull. Orochimaru was out somewhere with Kabuto.

And all of a sudden, I sensed a thought that did not originate from my mind. Subtle like a faded echo:

"_This damn rock is way too hard to sit on, I miss the sand of the Wind country hideouts..._"

"Want me to bring you a pillow?" I asked suddenly, grinning like an idiot at the small but undeniable success.

The Oto ninja, dumbstruck, raised his head to look at me. Then slowly, he began to laugh, the awkward sound similar to a bark.

"At last..."

"You didn't feel my presence?" I knitted my brows in confusion.

"I was preoccupied with my legs having fallen asleep." he replied hurriedly, apparently eager to continue "But now, do it again. This time, a little longer."

Taking a deep breath, I complied.

Again, I heard his thoughts, and a fraction clearer this time.

"_Such a shame. Orochimaru-sama would have preferred to be here, I imagine. He'll be disappointed...I wonder if Sasuke-kun realizes what a privileged position he is in. Not many of us are graced with the honor of receiving such profound attention. Not even his former favorite, Kimimaro-kun did..._"

"Hey..." I snapped at him, pulling my arm back.

Katsumi simply shrugged. "It's true. Now, instead of focusing on my actual thoughts, try to retract from my memory what you've just heard. It shouldn't prove to be too difficult as only seconds have passed since then..."

I nodded with confidence. The moment the connection had been established, relying heavily on my instincts I dove deeper than before, keeping in mind what I was searching for. However, it didn't go as smoothly as he presumed, his actual thoughts constituting a bothersome disturbance, creating the effect of an out-of-tune radio link inside my skull.

"_His concentration has... Such a shame. Orochi-... a lot. He can empty... maru-sama would have preferred to... and revert to conversing without... be here, I imagine..."_

"Stop it. Your on-going musings perturb my perception."

"And you think your victims will take it without a single desperate or livid thought? Tune it out."

"_He is reading my mind... Such a shame... he is reading my mind...Orochimaru-sama would..."_

My face contorted in annoyance. He was imitating the inner yammering of a distressed subject, going as far as mimicking the frantic, apprehensive emotions as well, and it crawled under my skin like venom.

_"What will he find?... Such a shame."_

"Stop it."

"No. Tune it out."

"_I don't want to give up my village's secrets, his secrets...a shame. Orochimaru-sama..."_

"STOP!"

"Concentrate, damn it! Sasuke-kun!"

_"Get out of my head!" the abrupt image of a ninja, wearing an Anbu mask, leaning closer "...Orochimaru-sama..."_

Unable to take anymore, I recoiled fiercely, scrambling backwards and away from him as fast as I could. My breathing had turned labored, and my heart was beating as though I knew with a dead certainty that I was about to be tortured.

Katsumi, kneeling up and shifting toward me, reached his hand out in concern.

"Sasuke-kun? What happened?"

I kept inhaling and exhaling rapidly for a few silent moments.

"You... were _truly_ worried about revealing _something_."

"I merely wanted to project that feeling towards you. And...for authenticity's sake, I summoned up a memory of mine where I was subjected to mind reading."

"By one of the Anbu..."

His eyes widened in bewilderment.

"How do you...? I only evoked the emotion, not the whole memory..."

"I saw a flash. Of a white mask with four rectangular crimson marks on it."

"Incredible..." he breathed, body petrified on all fours "You momentarily bypassed the barrier I put up between the emotional and visual part of the memory. And at the third occasion you've ever attempted dokushin jutsu..._That_ is true talent."

His tone was laden with awe.

"How much more chakra do you have?"

"Enough for five or six more tries I think."

I crawled back to my original spot, mildly embarrassed that I'd reacted so strongly.

"Then let's continue." he suggested, readopting his earlier posture as well "It is vital that you learn to ignore what is going on in the brain while you are trespassing. You must not pay heed to that layer when you're hunting for something else. Begin."

But I couldn't ignore his surface thoughts. Not that day at least.

As Katsumi had predicted, Orochimaru, when he returned the following day, was indeed displeased he had missed my noteworthy advance. From that point on, he clang to me even more, reluctant to ever skip my trainings again.

My progress gratified him greatly, I could tell.

Eventually, of course, I vanquished the minor setback and attained the ability to withdraw earlier thoughts and notions without being impeded by the interference of on-going ones, gaining a practical understanding of the distinction between layers. The very concept of _layer_ finally started to take shape in my brain, and gradually, little by little, I was inching closer to puzzling out the mysterious art of mind reading.

In another month, when Katsumi judged my skills of plain thought reading adequate, we moved on to entire memories.

"It's a more intricate process, as you may suspect, because memories are a subjective mixture of visual, auditory and tactile elements, smells, and sentiments. To retract and inspect them in their full complexity often involves breaching the inner resistance of the victim, especially if it's about a confidential or delicate affair. It also generally takes more time to obtain them."

"Since there is no actual order existing between memories, you can search using different methods. If you know the exact or approximate date, you obviously want to focus on that. If you know what impact it had on the victim, it caused him or her a deep sense of relief for example, you can start with that. If it's a valuable secret you are seeking, your best chance is to dig as deep as you can, and look for wards that stave off your efforts."

The Oto ninja explained studiously, sitting in his usual, meditative pose, in the battle chamber of Orochimaru's main lair, on the edge of Otogakure.

"And what do I do against the wards?" I queried, my posture mirroring his.

"You apply more pressure, and increase the chakra amount."

"Pressure?"

"Not physical pressure, evidently. You'll feel what I'm talking about." he paused for a second, eyeing a silent Orochimaru behind my back in contemplation "Remember that flash of an image you saw a few weeks ago? Of the Anbu member about to break into my brain? I want you to find a part of that memory."

I nodded at once. I had enough information about that occasion to stand a good chance at acquiring the whole recollection.

There were two possible ways of proceeding. I could either stick to the time or the emotion I knew it stirred. The first meant travelling back in time until the point I perceived the image of the interrogator, and from that, somehow tracing the source, the core of that one vision. But would that be even possible? The latter path did seem possible, I could well recall that desperate feeling twisting my stomach into knots, but was it powerful enough to guide me among decades' worth of emotions, several of which no doubt matched this one perfectly?

With Itachi I would have no choice but to resort to searching on the basis of time, because it's precisely his true feelings I wanted to uncover. And so, it made sense to settle on time in this case as well. As an excellent opportunity to practice.

I entered Katsumi's mind. His fabricated, alarmed thoughts I disregarded out of a relatively new but, luckily, existing reflex. I plunged deeper.

Sessions we had had two weeks ago, I recognized, though I only heard echoes, saw shades and felt dampened tendrils of emotions. I couldn't afford to linger, it already seemed as though I had been sitting there for minutes. My sense of time had completely abandoned me. If I was lucky, it had only been seconds...but I was unsure.

Three weeks earlier... Reluctantly, I slowed my pace.

Orochimaru's unabashed delight the first time I managed to filter out Katsumi's surface thoughts, and the pride it triggered in the latter for having been useful to him...the spark of satisfaction in Orochimaru's eyes as I flawlessly recounted a more guarded and thus more challenging thought...

Four weeks earlier...

Orochimaru's face-splitting smile as he first observed my successful if meager dokushin jutsu...

Why did I keep seeing _him_? He must have been on Katsumi's mind an awful lot, if those instants turned out to be the least complicated to spectate.

And also, I'd never seen those content expressions on his face myself. Of course, I had bidden him to stay clear of my sight...

Finally. That training where I hit the breakthrough. As I rewatched the memory, or rather, observed myself from the outside, I focused all my attention on Katsumi's train of thought...and as the crucial moment came, I caught a capillary thread. It linked the on-going events to something older, something deeper.

Carefully, I followed the thread, like a hawk does a mouse to the mouse-hole. It guided me back about a year earlier. I had no way of knowing the exact time, I could only make a wild guess based on the numerous layers I had traversed.

Suddenly, I found myself repelled and barred from going further.

I allowed myself a snort "Right on my first try?"

Katsumi smirked.

"What's happening?" I heard Orochimaru's inquisitive voice from afar.

"It appears Sasuke-kun has found my wards. I wonder if he'll pass them."

I released an ample chakra boost into my hand and strained against the protective barrier separating me from my goal. I pressed, pushed, shoved and repeatedly rammed the stone-like wall before me but it wouldn't budge, that small section of the Oto ninja's brain remaining rigidly blocked to me.

After so many botched attempts I felt too embarrassed to even acknowledge, I ceased employing sheer force. I had to admit that I wasn't experienced enough yet to shatter a shield so solid and absolute. Another tactic...but what else did I have besides chakra?

And then it hit me. The thread! I still had the thread that connected this memory to the other. What if instead of trying to bash the wall in, I pulled the necessary memory out?

It sounded crazy. But with no other trick left up my sleeve, I went for it.

I pulled hard and...

Nothing happened.

Damn.

How about pulling the thread and pushing the wall simultaneously?

Just a little more chakra...

To my great surprise, it worked. Before I even realized I'd achieved my goal, I was witnessing the unnerving occurrence.

_An old man with a bandaged forehead and right eye standing in the corner of a poorly lit, somber room. His body was garbed in an odd black robe that enfolded his right arm, flexed at the elbow, as if it were swathed underneath. I'd seen him a few times before, he was one of the elders of Konoha, though he seldom appeared in public. Danzou, was his name? A wooden crane supported his weight as he leant forward to speak. Two of the Anbu were standing side by side to him, and a third, crouching in front of a, most likely, tied up Katsumi._

_"What is Orochimaru planning?" the old man murmured, keeping his one eye affixed on the captured Oto ninja. He let the question hang heavy in the air, and shortly continued._

_ "It was never a secret to me that he only ever joined the Root for his own ends, once Hiruzen began suspecting his deviant activities. And I only took him in because I had an agenda of my own, of course. I believe we had a mutual understanding about the nature of our alliance. However...I never would have thought he would go as far as killing the Third Hokage and threatening to burn Konoha to the ground. Reason must have finally abandoned him completely..."_

_Katsumi averted his gaze. From that point on, all I saw was the cracks in the dark tiles of the room's floor._

_"Whatever he may think my true intentions are, I cannot let him succeed."_

_Another icy pause._

_"So I ask once again. What is he planning to do now that has he lost all his former expertise. He wants Uchiha Sasuke? He won't have him. The Uchiha may be called many things but fools is not one of them, Orochimaru is surely aware of this, even in his madness. How does he wish to restore his arms?"_

_No answer. Katsumi was preparing something inside his mind, I could feel it._

_"It's pointless to be loyal to him. He uses people until it fits him, and then casts aside the waste. You will be no exception, ninja of Otogakure."_

_Then, in a barely audible voice. _

_"Yuuma."_

_The Anbu kneeling in front of Katsumi extends his arm at once..._

"Very good, Sasuke-kun." the Oto ninja's pleased comment jolted me out of my vision as he removed my hand from his head.

I looked him in the eye, searching. "Did you give up any valuable information?"

His content gaze never faltered.

"I didn't. I'm not the most talented mind reader of Orochimaru-sama for nothing."

"What does reading have to do with..._being_ read?"

"They are very much connected." was his short answer.

Behind me, Orochimaru stirred and slinked closer to us.

"I wonder why you chose that particular memory for Sasuke-kun, Katsumi. Anything you wanted to communicate to him, but couldn't in front of me?"

His voice sounded meek and certainly amused, but his eyes bore sharp into the green orbs of his underling, who, despite the harsh accusation, glanced up at him with endless tranquility.

"To even presume such a thing, Orochimaru-sama..." he laughed lightly "Sasuke-kun has accidentally caught a glimpse of this unfortunate occasion during one of our trainings. I assumed that that had provided him with enough insight to be able to locate the memory. It only made sense to use it as an exercise."

"I see." the immortal shinobi mumbled, but the piercing look remained "And I take it he's solved the exercise?"

"He has, and outstandingly fast. In no more than an hour on his first try..."

"What?!" I exclaimed in sheer mortification "An hour?! How is that possible? I wouldn't have esteemed it more than thirty minutes or so..."

"It took about thirty minutes for you to track down the memory. And another to penetrate the wards."

"That's terrible!" I fisted my hands in helpless anger. "One hour for a two-minute memory..."

Though I couldn't see it, I was sure Katsumi was smiling.

"With your resolution and talent, that ratio shall soon be reversed."

* * *

A/N: Sooo, he's still in the learning process, our unwavering protagonist. (Ah, sometimes I wish I had his resolution when it comes to memorizing kanji...) Hope you're getting used to the concept of mind reading that I'm trying to depict here. There are some interesting developments to look forward to in the next chapter. ;) I bow low before everyone who's keeping up with the story. Some of you might wonder about that M rating, I imagine... well, all I'm going to say is that _slowly_ we're getting there.*enigmatic smile*

I'm very curious what you think so far, so please, leave a review before you go.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

あの日恋をした 忘れかけた花が咲く

あの日恋を知った 炎みたいな

あの日恋をした 胸のボタン外しては

あなたの横顔 盗み見ていた

Buck-tick - Flame

* * *

In two days, the next appointed training was to take place.

When I entered the usual chamber, however, I was surprised to find Orochimaru with an unfamiliar ninja, one of his many prisoners by the looks of his pale complexion, sunken cheeks and generally depressed air. Katsumi was nowhere in sight.

"Where's Katsumi?" I inquired as I approached them.

Orochimaru's expression was unfathomable.

"Out on a mission for me. From now on, you won't need his guidance anymore. Your current knowledge is sufficient, all you need is practice. And with your next goal, he cannot assist you."

That was unexpected. But had he been really sent on a mission or was it the result of the immortal shinobi's paranoia that he saw it necessary to put a distance between us?

And if it wasn't plain paranoia... what could Katsumi have wished to tell me through that single slice of a memory? A warning? I hadn't been aware that Orochimaru used to be part of the Anbu, but why would that be relevant to me?

No...from what I'd felt in his brain, Katsumi truly hoped to serve Orochimaru in any way he could and genuinely respected him. It was next to impossible to imagine him attempting to backstab his master by imparting a secret message to me.

In any way, I felt a tinge of disappointment. The mind reader was by far the most agreeable company I had had out of the whole Sound bunch.

"If you're done enumerating the hidden causes and implications, then let's begin." Orochimaru sneered, then gestured at the slouching man beside him. "Our experiment now advances to the next level. You will try to perform dokushin jutsu with your Sharingan and without physical contact. The theory is similar, but you'll channel chakra into your eyes instead of your hands. Like when you execute a simple genjutsu. The moment you sense anything, I want to know."

"You won't be here? To watch me?" I sprang the question at him, deliberately adopting an intonation suggestive and slightly mocking of his dubious tendencies, just to spite him.

"Not today. But we'll meet tomorrow, on our appointed training. Don't you worry, Sasuke-kun." he retorted in the same manner as he turned to leave, and his arrogance urged me to take it another step further.

"Afraid of what I might find if I happened to look inside your head?" I hissed at his retreating back.

He slowed his steps, and hesitantly turned his head around, shooting me a raw, razor-sharp look that made the hair on my nape stand on end.

"You are welcome to try. If you really possess the aptitude. Or is it sheer over-confidence speaking?"

I smirked. "You'll see. You have no idea what the Uchiha are capable of."

He sniggered dismissively. "_Show me_." he whispered and left me alone with my test subject.

Test subject...I was starting to think like him more and more each day. Although in a way, we were of like mind on our surroundings to begin with. Everything is a tool, a means of achieving our ultimate purpose, isn't it? I use Orochimaru as a tool furthering my own growth, my own gaining strength for the sake of my revenge. He would use me for my unique power, my strong body for the sake of his immortality and perfection.

The only difference between us was that I hadn't yet decided if I was willing to be his tool.

Feeling indisputably in charge, I took my time pondering over the intriguing thoughts that had invaded my mind, not caring to acknowledge the other ninja's presence for a couple of minutes.

Finally, I lifted my eyes at him. "Sit."

"Who are you to order me about?" the pale man scoffed, crossing his arms "If you want me to sit, make me, kid."

I released a drawn-out sigh. As my hand clutched the hilt of Kusanagi, Kabuto entered the room.

"Ah, Sasuke-kun, you haven't started yet. Go right ahead, don't mind me." he said nonchalantly and took a seat on the chair, by the wall, that Orochimaru would occupy while I trained with Katsumi.

I rolled my eyes at the medical ninja.

"He sent you to baby-sit me? Pff."

Kabuto frowned and set his glasses straight with his index finger.

"I'm here to ensure the experiment proceeds according to plan." His eyes flickered to my reluctant subject, and the two shared a long, meaningful look.

"I'll try it once more then. Sit." I ordered, turning back to the scowling prisoner, and this time he complied without a word.

I released my sword and took my usual pose on the floor.

And fastened my Sharingan on the dispassionate eyes before me.

As with traditional mind reading initially, I couldn't produce any kind of result.

I stared and stared but my eyes wouldn't crack open the skull, wouldn't submerge in the vibrating, obscure intricacy of the human mind, wouldn't grant me as much as a haphazard thought, a meaningless notion.

For months I had to suffer the muttered taunts of Orochimaru's lowest rats, probably assigned to the experiment because I couldn't have deciphered anything valuable from their thick heads anyway, and the mocking glare of the man himself, reminding me wordlessly of my excessive past faith in my own abilities. The humiliation ate at my pride mercilessly, and not once was I on the verge of abandoning this unattainable wish, or prying the skulls of the snake-man's garbage open with a mighty slash of my Kusanagi, or at least erase that ever-present, irksome grin from those bloodless lips with my fist. To my mild relief, Kabuto, when it was his turn to check on me, always kept a straight face throughout my numerous miserable endeavors. His refreshing indifference served to balance my temper, rendering me inwardly fuming but outwardly stoic.

I loathe to admit it, but eventually, it was Orochimaru who pushed me past this helpless phase.

True to the fact he'd once stressed that he was well-acquainted with the Sharingan's properties because of past experimentations, he knew—had known before as well, when it was about the awakening of the third tomoe—what it would take to advance my eyes to a new level.

An emotional shock.

That's why one day, he came to me claiming he had found Itachi.

"Where?" I asked, arising unhurriedly from my bed, careful to feign calmness. The exact opposite of what I was feeling.

"Close. He's an arm's length from us. You needn't concern yourself with the exact location."

He leant against the wall of my room, exuding tranquility.

"Tell me. Now." I demanded, pitching my voice low in a barely veiled threat.

"So that you can seek him out, unprepared, to perish for sure?" he asked point blank, creasing his eyebrows.

"No. As a proof that this is not a sham of yours."

He eyed me in consideration for a while, then finally shrugged.

"Katsumi found him. If you don't believe me, talk to him, he's here now. But this is the last thing you should waste your time on. Your Dokushin Sharingan-"

"Is still no more than a wild fantasy of yours, and no advancement is in sight." I snapped, weeks of pent-up embarrassment surfacing violently.

"With that attitude, I'm not surprised..." he scoffed, inclining his head.

"You..."

"Listen! The Akatsuki never stays in one place for long. This time, I have it on good authority that Itachi will remain in the proximity for a week. And he is only accompanied by one other member, a former shinobi of Kirigakure, by the name of Hoshigaki Kisame. He may potentially pose a nuisance, but I can handle it."

"Why are they here?"

"They are looking for certain... special ninjas. The nine Jinchuuriki. Their intel has led them to this area because the man they are currently chasing, Han, the vessel of the Five-tails is a wandering priest, whose religion directs him to his sacred mount once a year. This mount is to the South from us, at the Northern border of the Fire Country. He will spend eight days and eight nights at the top, then come down and walk into the open arms of the Akatsuki. And they are already there, lying await."

I sat back to the edge of my bed, processing the information.

Itachi was here. This was my chance. Was I ready? Was I strong enough yet?

"What do I need to do?" I asked very quietly, and the question surprised me as much as him.

Under any other circumstances, I would have sooner returned to Konoha for Sakura than show such vulnerability and ask for Orochimaru's advice in anything. But this was a crucial moment for me. Almost overwhelmingly so. And Orochimaru...was not entirely unintelligent.

"Give your Sharingan six more days. If you lacked motivation so far, you definitely shall not _now_."

He raised a hand, as if pre-empting a comment on his slight insult, but nothing could divert my attention from his counsel at the moment.

"I believe you can do it. You can still awaken the Dokushin Sharingan and use it against your brother."

Doubts and questions started whirling in my head at his words—even the faith he expressed in me escaped me, though that was the very first time he'd uttered something like that—and I reached for the most pressing one.

"Even if I succeed, you know it as well as I do how much time it would take to extract anything useable..."

"This is not simple mind reading, but a Sharingan-based ninjutsu." he kindly reminded me, but his reply didn't assuage me in the least.

"So what? This is an experiment, not something I can base the whole encounter, my whole revenge on, is it."

He peered at me long and hard, his standard imperious bearing swapped for a composed imploration. "I'm asking you to trust me, Sasuke-kun."

"You think I would trust you with what could very well affect the outcome of my revenge?" I grumbled through gritted teeth.

"And you think I would endanger my future vessel?"

His tongue came into view at the mention.

"There's not much you can polish on your other jutsus... And those seals you now sport on the undersides of your wrists. The cunning you demonstrated the other day with those may surprise even your brother."

His eyes pierced mine and I felt curiously exposed. Those eyes... no wonder he had so many blind followers, it occurred to me. Orochimaru's slit-pupiled eyes contained such hypnotizing depth they easily made him the finest manipulator in the world.

"Do it, Sasuke-kun. Do as I say."

His voice, its pleasant low resonance, like silk, was curling around me, coaxing artfully gently.

"Bring one of the prison trash." I decided and exited the room to wait for him at the usual place.

If not for common sense, I would have trained day and night during those days. But I _needed_ to replenish my wasted chakra and my mind _needed_ to be rid of Itachi's loathsome image if only for a couple of hours.

As the minutes ticked by, the sun sank below the horizon each day, and my continuous unease evolved into trepidation, an agitation that gnawed at my insides but heightened my senses to the point that I could impeccably foresee the small stray mouse's intentions, wandering in the shady far end of the chamber, but not the thoughts of the man sitting five yards from me.

On the sixth afternoon...

"It would have been helpful, no doubt." Orochimaru's pitying voice permeated the air like a venomous gas, while I was still in the process of burning a hole into the bored eyes of my subject "Alas, it appears to be impossible. It's not your fault, I misjudged the extent of the Sharingan's capabilites. You may cease your futile attempts now..."

"Shut it." I barked at him, not moving an inch.

"The price for this failed experiment is that you'll never discover the true reason your parents had to die...why Itachi bathed in their blood and left you to your nightmares, stripping you of a healthy youth _and_ future..."

"I. Said. Shut. It."

I resisted the urge to cover my ears as he dripped his innocently malicious words into them, my already worked up brain screeching at me to silence him immediately.

"There's still something to be gained, though. The cold, glassy-eyed corpses from your dreams might vanish if you manage to kill him. _If_..."

My face contorted in a snarl, and I lifted my sharp gaze at him.

_"…do you still take the soporific I gave you, Sasuke-kun?"_

"No, I haven't taken a single one. I don't need the desiccated reptile-powders that sustain you..." I growled and sprang to my feet, gripping Kusanagi.

His lips parted in wonder. "You don't what?"

But I was already slashing at him, channeling electricity into the blade.

He dodged and backflipped away.

"Stop this. I said nothing about powders. I _thought_ about the soporific I'd given you."

I froze that instant, arm held mid-air, sword buzzing and whirring with my summoned element. Until I halted my chakra flow and sheathed my weapon.

Looking back at the test subject, I caught those dull, brown eyes.

_"Does it mean he was successful then?"_

The subject's idle musing etched itself into my mind.

Involuntarily, I turned back to the immortal shinobi.

"The pattern..." he muttered, padding closer to inspect.

A fourth tomoe awoke that day in my eyes, the small black dots circling my pupils in a diamond shape.

My astonishment was still too fresh when he revealed that the story about Itachi being an arm's length from us was no more than a fabricated stimulation. His timing was nothing short of smartness. Any minute later, at a more tranquil state of mind, and I throttle him to death.

"You made it _all_ up, you bastard?" I scowled at him, but inwardly berated myself for not having checked his story with Katsumi. Although, he was most likely involved in this.

"Well, Itachi has been known to travel with Hoshigaki Kisame for some time now, and the Akatsuki's ultimate goal is to collect the nine Jinchuuriki...The rest was fiction." he admitted, grinning shamelessly in contentment.

Had my eyes possessed the Mangekyou Sharingan, Orochimaru would have been incinerated by Amaterasu's flames that instant.

And thus, I became the first ninja who could read minds with a mere look.

As with simple dokushin jutsu, the actual learning process was gradual and slow. My fifteenth birthday came and went without me noticing, I was so immersed in my own unique technique. In several months, I reached and passed familiar stages: from thoughts of the present I carried on to the past, from easy, unconcealed memories I advanced to masked, occasionally suppressed recollections.

I only recognized the significant hindrance when I arrived to this point. It was my over-sensitivity. An exaggerated and involuntary susceptibility to what I was witnessing.

I recalled those two instances when I felt Katsumi's apprehension as vividly as he must have at the time. He didn't comment on it but once, warning me to strive to distance myself more from the victim's inner world lest the sheer force of the emotions might paralyze me on the battlefield. Nevertheless, he never picked emotionally unstable memories again.

My training partners—who weren't test subjects anymore—wouldn't spare me the hardships, and I was glad for it.

I had to prepare well for Itachi.

The time of a sole reading I arduously shortened to the fraction of the initial amount, but the emotions I couldn't simply disregard, couldn't detach myself from the deepest grief and mind-splitting rage after a betrayal that cost dear lives, the agony of a pointless feud, the anguish of being forced to do something that is necessary but honorless, the heartache of being abandoned by comrades or by family...

I tasted the flavor of so many bitter fates, my own didn't seem without equal anymore, though that knowledge wasn't nearly enough to alleviate the pain Itachi had inflicted on me.

When I started feeling confident enough in my skill, I set to performing it during battle instead of amicable sitting and staring, integrating my new jutsu into the system of the rest, using whatever information I could discern to my advantage.

It resulted in fairly different fights with each individual, of course. With some, I only observed surface thoughts to predict their intentions more efficiently. With others, I combined the findings with low-level genjutsu, suggesting false clues about the course of action I would take. With the toughest, I sought painful memories, tragedies and through the evocation I unbalanced them, broke their concentration. A vicious tactic I didn't particularly enjoy.

It was on Orochimaru alone that I never used the technique.

But why shouldn't I, I asked myself one day. The rubbish I was expected to engage in battle with weren't worth more than a single clash.

The immortal shinobi, however, I hadn't been able to defeat yet. Not once.

"Orochimaru. Today I will use my Dokushin Sharingan on you." I stated at the beginning of our training that day.

"You're warning me? That seems counterproductive if you aim to win." he sneered.

"You have your secrets. And I shall uncover some of them today." I declared with an air of confidence, indicating with my tone that I wasn't open to negotiation.

He chuckled, strangely humorlessly.

"Are you sure?"

The foreign shimmer of his eyes bothered me. Was he doubting my determination, my courage?

"Why don't you take a peek now?" he suggested quietly, with bated breath it seemed to me, mirroring genuine curiosity as to what I would do.

"Hmph." My lips curled into a smile. Riveting my gaze at him, I activated my Sharingan.

"Dokushin Sharingan."

His head was currently devoid of thoughts, somehow, as if he were meditating. A minor tension was all I could detect.

I dove deeper.

At first, I saw nothing of interest. Trivial thoughts about his operations, his village, insignificant discussions with Kabuto, a dull ache that stemmed from his cursed arms and persisted virtually all the time.

And then... something wildly out of place.

_My heart began pounding faster, and the rush of blood was insanely thrilling. My mouth suddenly felt dry, I swallowed hard. A burning, heady sensation spread throughout my body, culminating in the pit of my stomach, rendering me uncharacteristically giddy. A coil of heat surged with marvelous intensity and it twisted my insides until the warmth reached my skin, eliciting a prickling sensation. _

_Lust_.

_And_... I parted my lips in shock.

_It was centered around me, directed at my own body._

I took one step backwards. Then another. Before I realized, I fled the training chamber.

* * *

A/N: Any ideas what will happen next? :)


	7. Chapter 6

Warning: This chapter will live up to the M rating. For real. Mature readers only, please.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

飛び散る汗

溶け合う性に 血が滲む

君を想い 僕は果てる

君が揺れる度に．．．

君を殺す度に．．．

Sakurai Atsushi - X-lover

* * *

Since that one disturbing event, I had been avoiding him like the plague, opting instead for individual workouts and having the training partners sent directly to my room. Less space, but more resourcefulness if I intended to keep the furniture intact.

However, the more I strained to shun the incident from my thoughts, the less I could resist to ask myself questions.

Orochimaru had _wanted_ me to unveil this hidden part of him, but at the same time, he hadn't acted on his urges in spite of the searing fervor that I experienced firsthand, and didn't seek me out ever since.

Why?

Whatever his motive was, it left me utterly befuddled. That was partly the reason why one day, when Kabuto came to inform me that he wanted to see me, I complied and went to his chamber without much of a struggle.

To be completely honest, I was curious. And this shocked me more than the whole discovery itself.

But shock was among the last of the emotions I wished to display. His bold, indirect confession much rather warranted something I had no difficulty exuding. Disdain.

"What is it you want?" I opened the door and sprang the question at him as I was still in the process of entering.

He was sitting by the table, a scroll held in hand, like that faraway time when he'd first raised the idea of an experiment with my Sharingan. The candles flickered uneasily upon my arrival, casting odd shadows on his deadly calm face. His voice, as he spoke, rang equally unperturbed.

"You haven't showed up on our appointed trainings for a week now. I meant to teach you a new jutsu..."

I huffed, assuming an aloof posture, by the door, that conveyed my message sufficiently.

"You're surprised? After I learned of your dirty little secret?"

He quirked an eyebrow, apparently taken aback at the unmitigated scorn radiating from my tone, but his surprise quickly transformed into anger, and tossing the scroll carelessly on top of the table, he started from his seat and strode closer to me.

The sudden proximity startled me, and without thinking, I backed away, distancing myself from him until I came into contact with the door behind me.

He smirked in amusement, and his twinkling eyes mocked me for my cowardly reaction.

It infuriated me very much, his delight, and in that moment, a thought that hadn't crossed my mind before struck me firmly.

The embarrassment shouldn't have been mine, when it was all about _his_ perversion, his twisted desire for someone who could easily pass as his son. For the fraction of a second, I seized the gravity of what it meant, and I couldn't help seeing him as a deviant being, depraved to the core.

Though not repulsive.

My face must have in some way betrayed my musings, because Orochimaru's smile waned and he trod even closer to me, expression stern. Over the last two years I had gained a considerable height, bringing me almost to eye-level with him. It made remaining unfazed by his attempted intimidation easier.

I meant to stand my ground, not shifting an inch as I watched him unhurriedly lift an arm and grip my throat solidly but without the intention of choking, this time. At the first sign of true hostility, he'd receive a Chidori, right in his face.

His nearness burned me like an invisible aura, and I became increasingly aware of details I'd skimmed over in the past. His porcelain-like skin, flawless and so colorless it glowed in the dim light, his slightly sunken cheeks that were normally cloaked by his ebony hair, the cool of his touch and the warmth of his breath.

_What was happening?_

Why had he grabbed my neck but did not apply virtually any pressure?

Was he conflicted whether he should strangle me or not?

And that 'not'…what did it entail in this closeness?

Orochimaru never did anything without thinking it through first. So what was he thinking at the moment? What did he hope to achieve?

He did nothing. His hand was resting around my neck for long, uncomfortable seconds, while his amber eyes gazed into mine.

My curiosity got the better of me. I activated my Sharingan.

He gasped, eyes widening.

I looked. Again, he managed to lull his thoughts perfectly, denying me a concrete, tangible explanation of his actions, and forcing me to rely on his emotions alone.

Confusion. He was just as puzzled by his indecision to do something, be it violent or non-violent, as I was. Excitement. Our metaphysical game intrigued him. And again…longing. My proximity stirred a heat in him I was too shocked to dare inspect further.

In a spur of sheer derangement, I sank deeper in his mind, grasping at anything accessible. Dark curses intended for the Third Hokage, annoyance at the circumstances and outcome of his last encounter with the other two of the Sannin, nostalgic reminiscence of Kimimaro, trifling thoughts about Otogakure, Konoha and the Akatsuki…and an astounding amount of thoughts about me, my progress, my growth, my Sharingan, my feelings, my revenge, my irreverent behavior towards him and so many more tiny impressions I could have spent an eternity analyzing…

However, below all that…

I gaped at him in stupor.

I found _loneliness_.

Who would have thought… he who is obeyed and followed by so many, and admired and feared for his expertise by even more, was actually lonesome.

Always surrounded but always alone.

I had no time to mull over my strange discovery, for his grip tightened all of a sudden, and with a dangerous flash in his eye, he forcefully reversed our positions and hurled me forward, sending me sprawling to the ground.

Without a word, he rushed out of the room, and I stayed sitting on the floor for a while, wondering what had just happened.

It was all eerily familiar.

* * *

I was dreaming.

A dream of shapeless silhouettes, of blinding darkness, and of a sweltering heat that had me shiver from head to toe as if freezing.

I was alone but inexplicably the half of something whole, an equal fragment of a full, of a perfect.

I was writhing, I was lacking, I was incomplete.

Nothing made sense and everything seemed to be in a distorted harmony.

What _was_ this?

The darkness seamlessly morphed into a kaleidoscope, the myriad colors pouring down on me like warm raindrops. But after an endless moment crimson became more prominent than the others and soon it conquered all and tinted my blind vision scarlet.

My blood boiled harshly in my veins and I was flooded by restlessness. The pit of my stomach churned wildly, and a thousand needles grazed my skin.

The worst was the fever. Relentless surges of unbearable heat assaulted my senses, seeping into my flesh, into my very bones, torturing and making me feel alive in a way that was unparalleled.

The feeling stretched on for an immeasurable span of time, but at a certain point, it became _too much, _too agonizing in its indecent bliss and I woke with a start, my blanket wrapped around my profusely sweating body like a snake, heart hammering painfully against my ribs.

For a whole minute I sat in brainless immobility, the chaos muddling my head, blocking my miserable attempts to _think_.

Even so, it was inevitable that I eventually name the source of this maddening state.

Orochimaru…

Without warning, the red from my dream returned, and enshrouded me in a tight embrace. However, its essence was different this time. One of pure ire.

_How dare he_.

How dare he _fuck_ with my head like this.

He'd afflicted me with a foul disease, this unidentifiable turmoil, but I'd make him pay.

The red thickened.

I would split him open, tear him to pieces, rip his heart out and squash it.

I would…

I darted to the door, flung it open and dashed down the corridor of the main hideout in the direction of him room.

He wasn't there. Where was he?

The splashing of flowing water reached my ears.

Shower.

I careened, following the sound like a blood-crazed predator, and I came to an abrupt stop in front of the bathroom.

Reason had fled my mind without a trace.

What would I do when I entered?

I would gash, slash and shred. The red in my head wouldn't be satisfied with anything less.

The door creaked open under my rough hand.

His outline was visible behind the opaque glass wall. The minuscule flinch I could well detect as he angled his head towards me, his unknown assailant.

Not hesitating to reveal my identity, I stomped my way around the wall and came to a halt when my eyes fell on the black tresses plastered to his wet back.

He only turned his head to leer at me from the corner of his eye.

"What do you want?" he asked quietly, the sizzle of the running water dampening the edge of the question.

His nudity I ignored. My mind was far too blown for me to care about something so trivial.

Instead of replying, I lunged, raising my fists as I went.

His slit pupils narrowed. Spinning to the side he averted my strike and used the momentum of the swift movement to counterattack.

His foot connected with the back of my neck, precisely hitting a nerve-ending that all but paralyzed my body with racking pain.

With an immediate, subsequent hit he smashed his elbow into my nose, causing it to bleed at once.

My ears whistled from the twinging sensation, and I fell forward, sagging against the wall face first.

"If you wanted a beating, you could have waited until I finished showering." he murmured silkily, and humiliation roiled deep within my stomach.

The hot water soaked my left shoulder, and my blood trickled down the grey tiles to eddy in a ruby pool around my feet, flowing down the drain along with the seething rage inside me.

Pain has a nasty way of sobering the mind.

Among the receding waves of excruciating torment, I sensed him edge closer, ever so slowly, like a stealthy predator. Had I become the prey then? How could I have let our roles be changed? I attempted to straighten up.

Warm air stirred the half-wet hair on the back of my neck. At the same time, the obi fastened around my hips loosened then vanished.

My breath hitched in my throat.

He grabbed the hem of my white shirt and in one fluid motion pulled it over my head, tossing it to the side without care.

That was when I started to struggle.

Trying desperately to turn around, I pushed myself away from the wall only to be pinned back down forcibly by his forearm. He applied pressure onto the spot he had previously struck on my neck and pain exploded afresh in my body, making my head spin violently.

His breathing—a series of slightly rapid hot puffs against my shoulders, as his other hand leisurely snaked down my back to my trousers, wavering momentarily before pushing it all the way down to my knees.

So as not to utter a single sound, I bit down on my tongue hard. The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth.

But I _couldn't help_ a quiet gasp as he pressed tight against me. His skin that had been so cold two days ago when he gripped me by the throat, was now scorching hot, and just like that the fever from my dream was back, bearing down on me with full force.

My feet were rooted to the floor, and I was unable to budge. From the throbbing pain or from the shock of being embraced by Orochimaru, I wasn't certain.

He moved in my stead as well.

His free hand traced the curves of my shoulder, my back, my spine, down to the back of my thighs. The touches were far from being gentle, though they weren't outright bruising. They could be best described as _hungry_.

It hurt him to make even small movements with his arms. And still...

_Ravenous_.

The pleasure he derived from touching me seemed to override the ache.

_Avid_.

As his fingers worked their way to my abdomen, sliding up to caress my chest but shortly descending on a straight trajectory to graze my cock, for only a split second as a sort of teasing, my body began to quiver.

He must have interpreted it as fear, for his hand ceased its ministrations and he angled his head close to my ear, to the edge of my temple, brushing his lips to my skin in the faintest whisper of a kiss. It was meant as a soothing gesture.

I rejected it, jerking my head to the side as much as I could to knock his jaw away from me.

He breathed an amused laugh into the nape of my neck.

By then, his cock was stiff against my bottom.

His left hand traveled to the back of my thigh, and I knew with a detached certainty what was coming. I didn't have to wait long.

With a tantalizing slowness, his fingers sneaked up to the slit of my butt and he inserted a slick finger—coated in saliva?—into me.

I exhaled sharply.

It wasn't solely because of the unusual and, so to say, uncomfortable sensation... no, something inside me cracked open. A barrier that I could label as many things—rationality, logic, sobriety, reservation—was about to be erased, jarring my mind into utter disarray.

His first finger was joined by another. He moved them in and out of me, in preparation. The thought sent a shiver down my spine.

In spite of the disinclination his intrusion inspired in me at the beginning, unexpectedly, a spike of lust rippled through my entire being, and I stood transfixed by the irresistible force. The unfamiliar delirium his acts had awaken in me degraded my mental functions leaving only one of the basest instincts. To chase carnal pleasure.

I sucked in a breath as he removed his fingers. When I felt the tip of his cock against my opening, I _whimpered_, and my trembling intensified to an almost intolerable degree.

I was feverish.

And then he pushed into me, slowly, deliberately, allowing me to grow accustomed to the sensation. Still, it didn't nullify the initial pain.

Before my whimpers could pitch into a whine, I chewed on my injured tongue, drawing more blood and limiting my inadvertent sounds to the panting I couldn't seem to help.

The noise of the flowing water was deafening.

Orochimaru remained deadly silent.

Free hand finding purchase on my hip, he pulled out, then pushed back in, carefully, repeating this a few times, always a little deeper to the point that eventually, he wouldn't stop until he was buried to the hilt. We both exhaled, him—in pleasure; me—in a mixture of shock and pain.

His movements picked up in speed gradually, and soon he was driving into me without much restraint.

My eyes widened. I was half-hard after a few minutes.

I involuntarily arced my back, my torso bending slightly forward on its own account. My head lolled back...to be caught by his forehead. In a way, that insignificant detail felt more intimate than the act itself, what with his right arm pinning me to place forcefully.

With each thrust, my arousal swelled and grew until it became too much to bear, too much to contain, and I slipped a hand around my painfully swollen member, tugging at it with harsh strokes, shutting my eyes tight.

He noticed immediately, and after a surprised inhale, he let out a short, breathless chuckle at my awakening need.

The pain didn't subside altogether, nor did the blood stop flowing from my nose and tongue, but somehow it blended in with the pleasure, it all mingled in an ecstatic concoction of ferocious desire.

Due to the small difference in height, he was forced to bend his knees a little. It wasn't until a good couple of minutes that I realized I was bending forward even more to make it easier for him.

Assuming it meant I finally gave my complete consent, he chanced to remove his arm from my neck and placed it on my hip. At once, I started to struggle again, and he yanked his lower arm back up to subdue me again.

With that, the rules had been set and we both understood it.

His thrusts turned more feral, less considerate of my well-being, and in parallel the pleasure skyrocketed.

In the most blissful moments, those last few seconds before everything explodes in a blinding light, a single raw, vivid thought plagued my brain.

_He's got me under his control._

I came with an untamed, guttural growl wrenching itself from my throat, and the sound boisterously reechoed from the short, tile-covered walls. I felt as though I had been struck by a Chidori; the tension I'd been feeling for more than a week compressed itself into a sphere, expanding and bursting like a bubble, leaving an absolute sense of relief in its wake.

I rested my burning cheek against the cool stone and kept my eyes shut, letting the all too quickly abating waves of pleasure wash over me, taking in everything as it was: the sound of skin bumping against skin, the heat emanating from a body other than mine, mixing with my own temperature, the feeling of hot droplets of water splashing on my back, the strangely intoxicating fragrance of blood, dampness, steam and sex...

Upon my animalistic reaction, Orochimaru's silent demeanor slipped and, tightening his hold around me, crowding me even more firmly against the wall, veritably lifting me off the floor, he snarled in response and fiercely bit my shoulder. His arm on my neck trembled as his hips moved in quick, hard thrusts.

Yes, I was feverish, but he was afflicted too.

It didn't take longer than a minute for him to follow me into bliss, though he fought to contain his own involuntary reactions. Without emitting a sound other than rapid breathing, his cock pulsed inside me and he stilled abruptly, shuddering helplessly from the power of his release.

For only a few seconds, he leaned onto me limply until he could control his pants. Then, he lifted his face and moved it towards mine.

If he'd tried to kiss me, I would have bit his lips.

But he missed my mouth by a few inches, aiming for the tile beside my head, and licked off the remaining splatters of the blood that had rushed from my nose and smeared the wall. I found the act weirdly intimate.

He straightened up and pushed himself away from me, fidgeting for a while behind my back, probably cleaning himself.

I obstinately resisted the urge to look back at him. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of revealing my instability through my eyes, though the temptation to steal a glimpse at his expression was fairly strong.

Not uttering a word, he turned around, donned his yukata judging from the faint rustling noises, and paced out of the room without hurry.

Finally, I slumped against the wall, sliding to the floor unceremoniously, the shower pouring hot water on my head.

It seemed surreal, what had just happened. He'd fucked me. He'd fucked me and I _enjoyed_ it. I'd burst into the bathroom with the intention of hurting him, and instead, _I_ ended up being hurt and used to fulfill his filthy desires.

And…mine.

I was feverish… But, to my chagrin, I didn't know yet if I wanted this state gone or not.

* * *

A/N:Reviews are love! :)


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

でも 強がって、強がって、軽く別れてあげたのに  
あなたの指が、声が、蛇が、まだ絡み付き  
息が出来ない

Janne Da Arc - Tsumetai Kagerou

* * *

The uncertainty that had possessed me after the events in the shower ebbed without a trace, to be replaced with sheer distaste.

Distaste for how moronic I'd been when I intruded on Orochimaru without a plan or as much as one coherent, sensible thought. Distaste for how he'd ensnared me and set me ablaze. And how he quenched the fire…

But most of all, distaste for still being unable to stop thinking about it.

I continued to avoid him entirely, ignoring the summons he sent through Kabuto, and spent each waking moment training by myself. Or with lowly Oto ninjas.

But then again, he never came searching for me in person.

After _that_ little incident, what modest trust I'd had in him vanished completely, and I recommenced my efforts of finding his weaknesses and a way to destroy him for good. The only problem was, I didn't possess enough data about his immortality jutsu to be able to plan an effective method of negating it. Regrettably, I had to make do with more primitive means of gaining knowledge such as performing Sen'ei jashu in the solitude of my room to experiment on snakes.

It wasn't much that I managed to learn, merely that snakes perceive their enemies through the change in temperature or, alternatively, letting the air waft through their mouths. That is, they rely on smelling rather than vision.

I also returned to the habit of examining the abilities of Orochimaru's henchmen and prisoners. In case it came to my disposing of the immortal shinobi, I would be in need of a team to search for Itachi, after all.

I had earlier set my eyes on Juugo, the one who could absorb natural energy into his body like a sponge, and the chakra-sensor Karin. My latest finding was a ninja of Kirigakure, Hoozuki Suigetsu, who was able to transform his body into liquid form, a talent Orochimaru must have taken active interest in when he had captured the kid. His cell was a glass tank filled with water, in the Eastern hideout. A few times I'd seen Kabuto inject a light sedative into the water to keep the jelly-like shinobi docile and under control while he obtained some of his special DNA.

"Oh man, not again." I heard Suigetsu whine one morning as I happened to walk by the chamber full of glass containers. I stopped to listen, observing the exchange through the narrow gap of the door, which had been carelessly left open.

"Do you ever achieve anything? Or am I being kept here for no good reason at all?"

Kabuto paused for a minute, syringe held in hand.

"Hmph. There is a good reason, I assure you, and I'm doing my best to put your… contributions to good use." he idly toyed with the medical tool, spinning it around and watching the dark blue liquid slosh inside "Though it's true that Orochimaru-sama has been lately preoccupied with matters other than his experiments."

I lowered my gaze and turned my head back to the path, intent on moving on.

"Hah. I can imagine. It's his favorite plaything, Uchiha Sasuke, isn't it, this…distraction." Suigetsu gurgled sardonically from underwater.

I halted my step.

I could visualize Kabuto frown as he answered. "Not _plaything_… his future vessel. And since it's been three years since Orochimaru-sama transmigrated to his current container, _future_ will soon become _present_."

"You think so? You think Uchiha will take it lying down?" Suigetsu huffed "From what I've heard about him, it's not very likely. On the contrary… he definitely has reason to strike down your master first. You must have heard that blood-curdling cry the other day, right?"

I widened my eyes in alarm.

Kabuto's voice sounded strangely impassive as he replied. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He then continued his way to the tank.

"Maybe it wasn't the other day, but a couple of weeks ago…" the water-using shinobi said quickly, a tad distressed, probably upon the approach of the medical ninja "But you must have heard! It carried all throughout this wormhole. Uchiha seemed to be in great pain."

Remote noises of clinking glass and flowing liquid.

"Like I said... I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about, Suigetsu-kun." Kabuto murmured barely audibly.

No reply came.

I was running out of time, it appeared. Had it already been three years since I joined this bunch? No, by my estimation, my time here couldn't have surpassed two and a half years by much. But what if I miscalculated? If Kabuto thought Orochimaru's ultimate technique was due in a little while…

Then there was but one thing to do. Learn as much as I can from the craftiest of the Sannin, then slay him as Suigetsu had suggested. Then the confusion that was eating away at my spirit would die down, hopefully.

With that thought in mind, I steeled my resolve and decided to seek out Orochimaru in his chamber.

I entered without knocking.

He was, as usual, sitting by his table, hunched over a generous pile of scrolls that appeared to be reports from Oto ninjas.

His gaze held a hint of surprise as he turned his head to look at me. "Sasuke-kun? I did not anticipate-"

"I'm here to discuss one thing and one thing only." I interrupted him, displeased with how nervous my voice rang.

"And what would that be?" he arched a narrow eyebrow.

"You mentioned some time ago that you'd meant to teach me a new jutsu."

I dismissed the unwelcome images that emerged with the memory of that occasion.

Orochimaru tilted his head to the side. "Hm. Indeed. Unfortunately, I have no time to spare for you now. In a few hours I'll be off to an errand with Kabuto."

I scowled and huffed in exaggerated exasperation. "When are you returning?"

"In four days, in the afternoon, if everything goes according to plan."

"_If_?" I asked pointedly.

His eyes twinkled mischievously. "It will go smoothly, don't worry."

I schooled my face into the coldest, most distant expression I could muster "I'm not worried. I don't care in the least. I just want you to fulfill your promise."

I turned on my heels, about to leave.

"_Have_ I promised anything?" he called after me, and I could feel his eyes burning holes into my back.

"Yes. You've promised me power. You'd do well to remember it." I spat contemptuously, tarrying for another moment to let the words sink in, then left.

And in the next three days, I didn't see him.

* * *

The fourth day found me in a foul mood. The aversion I'd been feeling coalesced with the infuriation Orochimaru's absence stirred in me and mounted up into an insufferable sea of frustration. Ironic, really, that I was angry at him for not being in the proximity, when a few days before the only thing that would have soothed me was him under the earth.

But the time for peaceful trainings was over.

My stay with Orochimaru was coming to an end.

In the afternoon I sat down in the battle pit, Sharingan activated, in front of the great stone serpent and under the wavering light of the candles, morphing each minute that ticked away to waste into a drop of hatred in the ocean of my loathing. One drop for Itachi, one for Orochimaru, to be fair.

It was almost evening when they deigned to return. I could hear their leisurely paces approaching me, though instead of two pairs of legs I counted three.

When they finally came into view, I addressed the immortal shinobi, not caring to temper the condescending edge of my tone.

"You're late. You said you'd teach me a new jutsu this afternoon, Orochimaru."

"That language again." Kabuto didn't fail to admonish me, as expected.

"Calm down. I happened to come by a little present for you." the amber eyes flickered to the unfamiliar ninja standing on his left. "He's a shinobi from Konoha, just like you. I figured you could reminiscence about the good old days in the village."

I set my eyes on the boy with a pale complexion that rivaled even that of Orochimaru. His lips curved into a friendly smile.

"Greetings, my name is Sai. You must be Uchiha Sasuke-kun-"

"Get bent." I scoffed.

His expression hardly faltered.

"Even if I force myself to smile, I guess I'm just easy to hate. Naruto-kun hated me from the start as well."

I felt mildly surprised at the mention of that name, though the impact that should have come—memories, emotions, anything—lagged behind. I was way too ill-tempered for reminiscing.

"But you know, in comparison to Naruto-kun, I think I'm going to be able to get along better with you."

I trapped him in a suffocating genjutsu without thinking, allowing him a glimpse of what I was feeling at the moment.

"Sasuke-kun!" Kabuto exclaimed in warning.

Sai swayed on his feet before collapsing to the floor, face alarmed. He glared at me, confounded.

"I wouldn't bother Sasuke-kun, if I were you. His temper is even worse than mine." the immortal shinobi purred, slanting a smirk at the frozen Konoha ninja.

"I've got nothing to say to him." I got on my feet. "Train me now, Orochimaru."

"I've heard a lot about you from Naruto-kun. He's been trying to find you this whole time, for three years."

"I remember him." I considered attacking him again, but the urge subsided. This worm wasn't worth the effort. "Let's go, Orochimaru."

"Naruto-kun truly thinks of you as a brother, Sakura-san told me." Sai tried one more time, eyes trained on my face.

"I only have one brother. And all I care about is killing him." I cast one last, indifferent look at the ninja, then left.

To the surface I went. The sun was still high in the summer sky, though it had begun its languid descent towards the horizon, tinting the endless blue with a lazy orange hue.

I used to be fond of this time of the day. Once. When I was too young yet for the Ninja Academy, and waiting for Itachi to return home for the evening was all the care I had in the world.

I made up a game that I would play whenever the setting sun found me on the bank of Konoha's river. Lying on my back, in the grass among the churring cicadas, I would close my eyes with the image of the sun's orb burnt into my mind, and I'd sink into idle reveries, daydreaming about whatever frivolous things little boys do. When an ample amount of time had passed, I would point haphazardly at the sky, and if upon opening my eyes I found that I'd managed to hide the sun under my finger, then that meant that I would soon become better than Itachi.

Except the sun would never let itself be hidden.

Its blinding rays always eluded the tip of my finger. And it kept dazzling, taunting and incessantly tormenting me with my inferiority.

Until Itachi drenched the shining orb in crimson.

Not once had I watched the setting sun since then. The motion of the earth didn't cease, I was well aware, and the orb kept ascending and descending ever since.

It was merely that I'd lost my inclination to raise my finger with the intention of screening its offending light out.

But such thoughts were meaningless. I had no idea what had come over me to remember that long since dead part of my past. I blamed the mention of Naruto…he who would continuously drag me down with superfluous sentiments.

"And here I was thinking you would be pleased that I've brought you something. You are hard to please, Sasuke-kun, aren't you."

I faced Orochimaru with a bland expression. A moderately large snake was accompanying him, spiraling around in perfect eights by his summoner's feet. He must have had Kabuto perform a Kuchiyose no jutsu before following me.

"I didn't want anything but for you to return at last."

His eyes narrowed curiously, and it hit me how my remark must have sounded. However, I felt no need to correct my mistake, instead, I molded my voice twice the icier.

"Are you going to teach me or not?"

He regarded me for long moments before answering.

"My part in this technique is minimal, it's only the theory I'll explain to you." he paused briefly "You do realize that controlling elemental chakra means you may control the element itself as well, don't you?"

"Of course."

"If someone who uses water release is surrounded by water, his jutsus become effortlessly feasible since they do not utilize any chakra to summon the element. Same with wind and fire. Earth, from this point of view, is a bit of an exception, as the soil that is usually at our disposal might lack the minerals that make it solid enough, and thus adequate to use."

"But the rule applies to lightning as well. The sole difficulty is that nature is not so abundant in lightning as it is in, say, water or wind. But this is precisely why it's fortunate that you command lightning _and _fire. Because as soon as you perform a sufficient number of powerful, consecutive fire release techniques, you may be able to manipulate the atmosphere and create a rising air current. In other words, you set off a violent storm that produces natural lightning for you. And then… it is only a matter of aiming it at your enemy."

Bloodless lips curled into a smile.

"Let's walk a short distance, to that clearing on the other side of this hill. There you can give it a try."

I followed him silently.

His explanation made sense. I'd seen ninjas making use of Konoha's river before. And this technique could be perfect for finishing off my opponent when we're both low on chakra.

The clearing, encircled by verdant, leafy trees and bushes that filtered the sunlight like thick webs, stretched barren, without grass, owing to my numerous earlier trainings. Orochimaru stopped in the shade of an oak and motioned for me to move to the center of the area, commanding his serpent to tag along with a subsequent gesture. Like pawns on a shougi board.

I trod to a convenient spot and without anything further being said, I began.

"Katon, Goukakyuu no jutsu."

Soon, a dozen trees and more bushes were afire. The acrid smoke drifted high in the sky and the torrid air licked my skin gently like a snake's soft, forked tongue, but no storm seemed to be at hand.

"Not enough heat." I heard my teacher's deep voice behind me.

I'll give you heat then.

"Gooryuuka no jutsu."

With that terrible fire dragon, I set fire to the grass and tiny, pearl-like flowers under the trees, giving birth to a raging sea of flames consuming and devouring every living tissue, every flammable particle in the vicinity.

It was mesmerizing. The sun had at long last come to the earth, it occurred to me. How fortunate. Up in the sky, it used to be untouchable. But down here, I wielded the power to extinguish it.

A deep rumble shook the darkening expanse of the heavens, and the orange was expelled by the gathering grey.

"Yes...perfect! This is perfect..."

An exclaim that held nothing but undisguised delight.

A raindrop fell on my forehead. And another.

I jerked my head around to fix my eyes on Orochimaru.

He was far, and with the light gone, his shape seemed to wobble blurrily. Like a mirage. The increasing rainfall must have distorted my keen eyesight. Either that or he was a pale apparition. One that was stuck in this realm with the sole purpose of torturing me.

Driving me insane with confusion.

That smile on his face... it wasn't a grin, it was a genuine expression of glee and... pride? But how could I be sure about that when a moment ago I could scarcely make out his figure? Was I imagining it?

I blinked quickly and focused on his gleaming amber eyes.

"_He is truly a natural at ninjutsu. His brilliance...the day will come when not even Itachi shall be able to surpass him in terms of skill. How I wish I could see that..."_

Even though he was observing my training—in which he was participating with the single purpose of making me stronger—, his thoughts were about me, Sasuke, and not about my body, his future vessel?

But...why? And how could I read that from this distance?

The world felt strangely out of focus that moment. My mind seemed to be dimmed by bewilderment.

Then, a blinding lightning bolt lit up the gloomy clearing for the fraction of a second. And when the darkness returned, I knew I had imagined it all.

"Now, Sasuke-kun! Bend it to your will." he shouted out to me.

I had been deceived by my own naivety. The signs of pure greed crept up his face as he spoke, and I could see his smile for what it was. An expression of selfish desire. If I get stronger, _he_ gets stronger later.

_It's pointless to be loyal to him. He uses people until it fits him, and then casts aside the waste. You will be no exception, ninja of Otogakure._

Katsumi's memory... had it really been a warning, after all?

It mattered not.

Turning around, I faced the hissing serpent that had been watching me calmly.

I would use Orochimaru until it fit _me_, and then cast him aside.

I raised my arm, feeling with absolute certainty that I was capable of veering the thunderbolt towards the snake.

Or should I target the immortal shinobi? Perhaps even he wouldn't be able to survive this immense energy.

The lightning answered my call. It fit into my grasp. I could mold it, shape it and determine its route.

To what extent, I wondered. I willed for it to take the shape of a Kirin, a powerful and majestic mythological whirring and rumbling gained a gradual escalation in volume. I glanced up.

A fierce animal with eyes of ruby looked back at me, twisting violently, ready to strike.

I smiled, satisfied. Then let my arm fall.

It happened so fast even my Sharingan could hardly register that moment my Kirin sank its teeth into the flesh, electrocuting the slender body instantly and without mercy under the curtain of the relentless rain.

I stood motionless, roving my eyes over the charred, lifeless body.

As the clouds began to scatter, the flames died down—drowned by the downpour—, and the sky turned blood-red, I observed my surroundings. The vegetation around me had practically been destroyed, with scorched tree trunks standing sporadically in a semi-circle around the clearing.

The only animate detail standing out from the dreary landscape was Orochimaru, leaning against the intact oak, hair and attire soaking wet, but a content smirk present on his face.

I huffed quietly, scolding myself inwardly for missing this opportunity. Perhaps I could have ended him forever, here and now, sparing the trouble of wasting chakra on him another time.

But...

I released a deep sigh and could only reprimand myself twice the more as I gazed up at the sky again, searching for the sun's golden orb only to find it missing, veiled by the trees on the very edge of the horizon.

In a way, Orochimaru had helped me hide the sun.

* * *

I retired to my room, wishing for nothing more than a good rest.

It was when I finally started to doze off that I heard the hissing.

"Who's there?" I asked calmly, suspecting the worse. The worse being the man I'd left at the entrance of the hideout an hour ago.

"You found me out? Too late, though. I already have the advantage here."

That Konoha ninja. Sai. How irritating.

"What's your purpose?"

Although the snakes slithering towards me seemed answer enough.

"Danzou-sama's goal is your death." he answered quietly, indifferently.

Danzou? The one who'd interrogated Katsumi for information about Orochimaru?

"_I_'m here to take you back to Konoha."

* * *

A/N: Sound-sasuke, I am speechless. I don't deserve such high praise. :P Nevertheless, I thank you from the bottom of my heart! I'v been having a rough day (my hands are full with home assignments, and I didn't have much time to rest despite the fact that today's my birthday...), but your kind words cheered me up and gave me new strength! :)

JigokuShoujosRevenge and Rosebunse, thank you for the regular reviews, I'm looking forward to your little comments each week. :)

Everyone, I hope you like where this is going so far. With this chapter, you can now identify the time setting of the story on the Shippuuden timeline. The next chapter is one of my favorites, I hope it won't disappoint you. :) (Btw, there's an enormous storm here atm, Sasuke's jutsu was too powerful it seems...)

And as always: reviews, reviews if you may, they keep me going! Feel free to ask me anything, or voice your dissatisfaction, if constructive.


	9. Chapter 8

**_Chapter 8_**

Help me tear down my reason  
Help me, it's your sex I can smell  
Help me, you make me perfect  
Help me become somebody else

I wanna fuck you like an animal  
I wanna feel you from the inside

Nine Inch Nails - Closer

* * *

It baffled me completely why Naruto still clang, like a petulant kid, to that delusional notion that he and I were friends. Even if there had been a time once when I thought of him and Sakura as friends, it should have been obvious to them that with my decision to leave Konoha and team seven behind, that relationship had ended permanently and irreversibly.

It was that simple.

Friendship can only exist when both parties harbor some level of affection, and express interest in the well-being and daily life of the other.

I was devoid of such.

But to say that their concern left me entirely unaffected would have been a lie.

No, I felt annoyed. Annoyed, because lost and wading miserably in the depths of their own selfish wishes and expectations, they utterly ignored what _mine_ were.

Such hypocrites.

If they'd truly been the friends they claimed themselves to be, then they should have understood that what mattered to me was one thing and one thing only. Everything else fell into one of two categories: benefit and hindrance.

Kakashi had mostly proved to be a benefit, teaching the way a ninja should think, supporting us continuously as well as training me in basic techniques. But that was the limit of his usefulness. I needed stronger and better shinobi than him to teach me further.

Sakura. Of the three, perhaps she was the blindest. Pining for my attention and affection when I hadn't so much as ever looked her way. To the fact that she still kept her piteous hope alive that one day I'd return her feelings or at least everything would be—her definition of—normal again, I had nothing to say. Her simple-mindedness was a cumbersome, if not serious hindrance.

And Naruto...my childhood rival. The one supplying me with the greatest benefit of all. Extra motivation. Up until the point he refused to respect my decision to part ways with him. From that moment on, he turned into the greatest hindrance, a ghost of the past, lugging me backward with teeth sunk into my flesh.

He should have let me go.

He should have forgotten about me.

If his aspiration was to become strong in order to assume the Hokage title, why couldn't he comprehend that I wanted, I _needed_ to become strong in order to murder my brother? Why was my ambition any less worthy than his?! Mine stemmed from the depth of my heart as did his. Mine spurred me on during every painful lesson, every life-threatening situation, as his did to him.

It was unfair...

It was unfair of them to impose themselves, their _weakness_, their flawed perception of my personality on me.

Because sentiments like that, they make people weak. And vulnerable. Attachment is always a hindrance.

And that was why, had Orochimaru not stilled my arm, I would have struck down, I would have annihilated them with a final, furious flash to get it through their thick skulls before they yielded their souls, that _no one will stop me from taking my revenge_.

I travelled with Orochimaru and Kabuto to the nearest hideout, somewhere on the border of the Fire country, as a temporary resting place until the more trustworthy underlings transferred everything valuable—experiment results and subjects mostly—and cleared out the discovered and thus further uninhabitable Eastern lair.

My head was racing and aching with unnecessary, exhausting thoughts. The more I reflected on it, the angrier I became. And I was unable to come up with any reasonable means of letting the steam out.

However I strained to wipe my mind blank as a sheet, nothing mollified my temper, not even a tough workout.

To simply go to sleep would have been a waste of time, I wasn't sleepy.

I was in need of something that could erase these unwanted thoughts, so that I could return to training properly.

The answer to my problem wouldn't reveal itself easily. That is, to be honest, I desperately wrestled my instincts that kept pointing me to that room down the stone corridor.

After who knows how many hours of vexing indecision, I had half a mind to resort to taking a soporific after all, in order to shut down both my brain and my treacherous body, but that would have involved entering that room too, to ask for the pills.

_Damn it_.

I was craving _that _feeling again. That indescribable relief.

I...

I found myself standing in front of his door before I knew it.

I raised my hand to knock, but stopped myself, abruptly. I never knocked. Why would I start now?

This nervousness...turned all logic to shambles.

Grabbing the doorknob, I entered without announcing my intention first.

He was lying in bed, eyes open and darting to my face as soon as I walked in. His customary grey garbs had been replaced with a simple mahogany shirt decorated with spiraling white snakes.

"What is it you want?" he asked immediately, unmoving.

His voice sounded tired, and the unusually sharp creases of his face betrayed his fatigue, but his eyes... They instantly glinted with interest.

What I want. Again. It began with what I wanted.

_What I_.

_Wanted_.

The lock behind me clicked shut and I stepped forward, having no idea whatsoever what I should say.

I chewed on my lips until they were sore.

Slowly, painfully slowly, understanding dawned on him. His pupils dilated though it was the same dim candlelight as ever.

I looked away.

Unhurriedly, he removed the blanket that covered him up to his abdomen, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His bare feet came to stand on the cold stone floor.

I fought so hard to keep myself from trembling, but as he took a step towards me, a shiver ran down my spine and I sucked in a shaky breath.

Pathetic. I was absolutely pathetic.

To stifle the embarrassment, I ground my teeth and sprang forward to hit him in the face with my fist.

He, of course, blocked my deplorable assault using his forearm, grabbed my hand in the blink of an eye and twisted my arm behind my back, spinning me around forcefully in the process. I managed to elbow him in the stomach with my left arm, but the move cost me its freedom as he seized it at once and wrenched it backwards. Both of my arms were trapped and angled so that it caused pain if I attempted to move.

I huffed in helpless anger, but the sudden adrenalin that flooded my veins felt freaking good.

_He understood me._

A hint of gratefulness bubbled up in me before he, once again, spun me around and thrust me toward the table, thwarting my struggling simply by tripping me.

I was shoved roughly to the wooden surface, face first, my forehead knocking hard against it as I went.

Even through the dull pain, my excitement grew exponentially from the way he controlled me, and my calm breathing shortened into rapid pants.

For a moment, he hesitated, and I thought he'd say something... but he remained silent.

Good. Nothing needed to be said.

My garments were shortly removed, in a similar fashion to last time, shirt and obi thrown carelessly to the floor accompanied by an all too loud swishing noise, trousers and underpants pushed down to my knees. Though he only clutched onto my wrists with one hand, I didn't lift a finger to try and break free. I didn't want to. I acknowledged this detail with a sort of pained resignation.

A moment of hesitation.

He was obviously deliberating how to get rid of his own clothes.

I grew impatient. Straining my neck to turn slightly and capture his gaze, I did my best to convey my intended message to him through eyes alone.

Once again, he grasped what I meant. Releasing me altogether, he flung his shirt over his head and pushed down his pants, revealing ashen skin and an enticingly taut body, which seemed to have escaped my attention before. From the corner of my eye, I saw that he was already hard.

He then grabbed my hips, tugged me toward him so that my lower body was dangling off the table, allowing him better access. He leaned in to embrace me, pressing fast against me, hair tickling my neck softly, cool hands sliding down my skin as he mapped each and every inch from my shoulders, my sides, my waist down to my thighs with a care I only ever saw him reserve for his glass tubes, containers and other experiment equipment.

I growled, anxious to begin as I felt his arousal squeezed against my backside, and I snatched his right hand to bring it to my lips. Taking into my mouth his index and middle fingers, I profusely coated them in saliva, then let go of him, hoping he'd take the hint.

A brief, quiet chuckle later he was preparing me in earnest, free hand spearing through my hair as it became unnecessary to restrain me anymore, my own arms resting next to my head. The way he ruffled my unruly locks could almost be called affectionate. It set me on edge.

What was I getting myself into?

For it to happen once, it may be blamed on hotheadedness, temporary insanity or I might even argue it occurred with dubious consent. But twice, and on my own initiative, was something entirely different. What did it mean?

The two categories I'd been pondering earlier… the abrupt realization that Orochimaru and… _this_ didn't fit either of them hit me hard, muddling my thoughts and feelings even more thoroughly.

Attachment is always a hindrance. But the way this had made me come undone before… I _ached _for it, this pure, ridiculous, agonizing madness.

His fingers pulled out suddenly and were replaced by his cock.

I gasped, the blood thrumming deafeningly loud in my ears.

This time, I barely felt any pain due to his former, arduous ministrations, I suspected. However, nor was the pleasure instant as, it appeared, it was for him. His hips moved in long, languid motions, as though he were savoring each moment, and his breath came in uneven, shallow puffs.

The wood was firm against my chest, and its edge pressed mercilessly into my lower abdomen, but I couldn't be bothered by it, not with the delight that stemmed from the filthy notions my lust-addled brain deluged me with. They evoked my feelings from before, when he'd so fervently claimed me in the shower, and my blood instantly began to boil from the memory.

However, that flawless, intoxicating rhythm was disrupted when, without warning, he pulled out, took hold of my legs and flipped me around in one motion, tugging my pants off violently before I could so much as blink.

_No… _

_Why is he changing the rules_, the question sprang into my mind as I found myself staring up into his face. The sole thing that somehow justified my decision to come here and let him subdue and take me was that impersonal position which made it possible to a degree to keep my distance from him, forgetting, or at least trying to forget that it was Orochimaru behind me.

But not like this…

It wasn't about simple carnal pleasure anymore. Because the second I lay eyes on that face mirroring unadulterated desire, mouth hanging slightly open, and heavy-lidded eyes boring into mine, _knowing_ what I was feeling and revealing that he was engulfed by the same flames, burning from the same fever, another barrier shattered in me.

He slithered in between my legs and bent forward, licked a straight, wet line from my abdomen—somewhat clammy with sweat—to my chest, taking his time when he arrived to my nipples, fondling them with curiosity.

My heart tripped over itself in my chest from the fire of his gaze.

But his thirst was too deep, too demanding, and before long, he was caressing my collarbone with his tongue, and I… I raised my upper body a bit from the table and put a hand on the back of his head, curling strands of his hair around my fingers.

My brain froze. The questions kept on rising, but I had no answers to them.

His arms snaked around my torso and I lay still in his confines, waiting. His mouth then traveled up my neck, breathing light kisses on my jaw.

This smoldering tenderness that verged on sheer affectionate… it astonished me greatly.

Amber eyes finding mine again, a faint tilt of my head was all it took for my lips to be captured by his.

His face, his cheeks were surprisingly warm… Had _I_ warmed him up so? And it was all _him_, so much like him, his every motion, every stir from how he immediately seized control, catching my lower lip and licking it almost instantly, with greed, to prying my lips apart with his tongue and slowly slipping in, touching mine.

We fought for dominance for a while, but of course, he won, and sucked my tongue into his warm mouth, caressing it in such a delicious way that it provoked a low groan from me. Finally, he sealed the kiss with a hard bite on my lower lip.

I grunted, the small wound one of his fangs punctured stinging painfully, filling my mouth with the taste of blood. How familiar.

"I hate you…" I blurted, voice catching pitiably in my throat, but the impulse to utter those words had been far too strong for me to care.

I didn't mean it because of the bite. Nor the kiss itself.

It was that damned tenderness… it crawled under my skin, unbalanced me, and slowly tore me apart because it was the complete opposite of what I'd expected from the immortal shinobi, who only bothered with people until it fit him.

Rough and selfishly centered on his own pleasure, _that_ I could well imagine and accept.

But not this persistent _yearning_ that radiated from every gesture, not this devoted_ intimacy_.

_It stripped me of all my defenses._

Orochimaru merely smirked at my statement.

Before I could retaliate in kind though, he straightened up a little and glided inside me again, quickly and fully.

The height of the table wasn't perfect, being a tad too short for this kind of usage, and he was forced to lean over me at an angle, supporting his body on his arms, which, I realized, must have been unpleasant for him. I lifted my legs and rested them on his sides, urging him closer, ever closer with my heels. With my hands I clasped the edge of the table to keep from moving.

He thrust into me wildly, unrestrained and so deep I shuddered just thinking about how completely he buried himself in me. A sheen of sweat covered his skin, as it did mine, and, inexplicably, an itch to taste the saltiness on his chest, his flat abdomen, the base of his neck, swept over me so powerfully I would have fulfilled this odd desire if it didn't mean altering that delicious pose, that perfect angle.

Once I couldn't take anymore, I released the table with one hand and wrapped it around my throbbing erection, pulling the skin with as much fervor as Orochimaru was driving into me. On a primal level, I recognized the longing glint in his eyes, he wished to do this himself, but unfortunately couldn't, not with the curse on his hands that rejected the possibility of undertaking such an intricate set of movements.

No matter. Next time, he and that deft tongue of his-

_What?_ Was I expecting a next time?

…

I banished the unsettling question to the back of mind in favor for watching his subtle reactions minutely.

He was close, I could tell. There was a shade of irregularity, a touch of elevated excitement in his formerly well-calculated motions. His hair had streamed forth from behind his shoulders, partially hiding his face and swaying rhythmically in the air between us. He was inhaling through his mouth, avidly sucking in huge gulps of oxygen.

And his eyes… alight with a frenzy, an unfathomable craze he poured into me drop by drop as he didn't look away from me once, our gazes melting together until I felt with an absolute certainty that we were two equal halves of a whole, of a full, of a perfect.

_What were we doing to each other?_

Orochimaru gasped out as he fell over the edge at last, caught in the long spasms of his orgasm, and he stilled with his cock pulsating deep inside me, eyes going out of focus before his eyelids rolled shut.

I doubled the speed of my hand because I wanted to follow him, in the true sense of the word, not simply hitting my own peak, but _follow him _so that we welded, coalesced in sheer ecstasy, in euphoric obliteration, me a part of him, him a part of me.

I came so hard I couldn't have told the sun from the moon, right from wrong or up from down. My whole world narrowed to that pair of dark purple lines enclosing glowing golden—it seemed to me in that peculiar light—iris and snake-like,coal black pupils that were watching me, oh, watching me with great curiosity indeed, as I lost my mind.

Heaving as though I'd fought a battalion of resourceful enemies, the delirium slowly receded and I came about, pressed tight to his chest, enveloped in his arms, the man peering down at me with a smug expression.

Sobering for him wasn't as awkward, apparently, as it was for me. I became increasingly aware of our sweaty skins, his shaft still inside me, the warm fluid sticking to our bellies, the searing intensity of his gaze, and the memory of my earlier embarrassing thoughts.

I looked him in the eye then.

And _yet again_, he understood me, my involuntary discomfort, without my having to put it into words, and bit by bit, he withdrew, stepping away from the table eventually.

I also hopped to my feet, only then becoming conscious of my sore thigh muscles. The sudden upright position's other consequence was that the bodily fluids smeared on my skin and left inside me began to trickle towards the ground. I hastily reached for a roll of bandage placed neatly onto the cupboard beside the bed, and tearing a reasonably long shred off, I wiped myself as clean as I could. The smudged piece of cloth I squeezed into my pocket for lack of a better place, after I put on my trousers, taking a mental note to wash my garments in the near future.

When I was done, I turned around, about to collect the rest of my strewn clothes, but Orochimaru's outstretched hand stopped me. I glanced at him questioningly, and he gestured to the remainder of the bandage. I handed the roll over, averting my eyes from his face.

We dressed in silence, the only noise in the room being the soft rustling of fabric.

I had been just about to finish the knot of my obi, when, unexpectedly, the door opened.

"Here is the med-" I heard Kabuto's voice before I saw him.

The medical ninja was carrying a tray with a fairly large glass of greenish liquid on it. As soon as his eyes fell on me, he stopped dead in his tracks.

I chanced a glimpse at Orochimaru, but thankfully, he had already been done dressing and was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing towards me.

Looking back at Kabuto, I followed his line of sight, knowing exactly what was going on in his head meanwhile. The amused and, compared to when I'd entered, undeniably more sedate and relaxed features of the immortal shinobi's face, my Kusanagi lying forgotten on the floor, the mildly but noticeably displaced table, my half-tied obi and... my, no doubt, ruffled hair. A scene equally possible after a smaller fight that ended in a conciliation of some sort, if not for this odd air around us, which Kabuto, sensitive as he was to such things, undoubtedly picked up on.

The silence stretched on for long, uncomfortable seconds.

Eventually, I decided not to give a damn about it, and bent down to pick up my sheathed sword. Sticking it into my now properly fastened obi, I trudged towards the door.

Before I could pass Kabuto, however, he slid a hand into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief.

"Your mouth...it seems to be bleeding."

He handed the fabric to me, and after a moment of hesitation, I accepted it, both of us avoiding looking at the other during the moderately awkward interaction.

"Thanks..." I murmured, touching the pristine white textile to my lower lip. He was right, it left a big scarlet stain.

Without anything else being said, I left the room.

"Put it on the cupboard, Kabuto. I'll take a shower first." Orochimaru's raspy voice carried to me down the corridor, and I couldn't help a flinch.

How could he be so blatant about it?

Well, that meant I'd not set foot anywhere near the bathroom for a while.

Returning to the solitude of my own room, I shut the door behind myself and collapsed onto the bed, releasing a long, drawn-out sigh.

Mission accomplished, I thought with sarcasm, furrowing my head into the pillow. The Konoha bunch was the last thing on my mind from that time on.

* * *

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. ;) Don't know about you, but I like confused Sasuke. Sure everyone admires him beacuse of his strength of character, steadfastness, persistence and the such, but isn't it refreshing to see him bewildered, trying to make sense of what's happening inside him for a change? I imagine how fascinated Orochimaru must be to witness this new development.

Sound-sasuke: Thank you very much, for everything. ^^ I know, I'm quite fond of this pairing too! Too bad it's not that popular. :/ The dinamics of their relationship provides so many possibilites for a writer. From a sadistic, lust-focused take to a more intimate (but not overly sentimental, ofc) one you are free to interpret them as you desire. I love this. What's more exciting than writing about the romance/bad romance of two flawed characters?

Please review, my lovelies. :)


	10. Chapter 9

**_Chapter 9_**

Well I'm not paralyzed  
But I seem to be struck by you  
I wanna make you move  
Because you're standing still

If your body matches  
What your eyes can do  
You'll probably move right through  
Me on my way to you

Finger eleven - Paralyzer

* * *

"Kabuto." I addressed the medical ninja, who was immersed in some kind of a database on the computer. "I'd like to speak to you."

What I meant to convey was _I realize you are busy, but I've got things on my mind that I need to ask about, so I don't really care if you're in the middle of something, talk to me._

We'd traveled to, and were currently lodging in, the second largest hideout in the East, where all the equipment and subjects from the other—infiltrated by Naruto's gang—had been transported to, resulting in a pretty crammed working environment for Kabuto. He didn't seem to mind this, though.

"Can't it wait a little, Sasuke-kun? This is actually important..." he sighed, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"It won't take long. You may return to the... 'Genetic manipulation with DNA implantation from Kirigakure's unique Suiton-using individuals' soon." I read out the title of the project, earning an annoyed side-glance from Orochimaru's most trusted underling.

In a rush, he turned off the computer lest I discover something significant about his precious experiments, then took a seat by the desk, facing me.

"Alright. What do you wish to talk about?"

I leant against the wall and crossed my arms. The only free space left of the wall was a narrow strip on either sides of the door, the rest being entirely occupied by long metal shelves containing various scrolls and documents, all labeled neatly and visibly arranged in a strict order, no doubt according to the logic of the ridiculously meticulous medical ninja.

"Kimimaro."

Kabuto raised a grey eyebrow.

"Kimimaro is dead." he stated in a tone that suggested it was no use talking about him.

"I am aware. What I'd like you to tell me is what his relationship with Orochimaru was like."

At this, both of his brows shot up so high they almost disappeared below his headband. Nevertheless, he deigned to answer.

"He was to become Orochimaru-sama's vessel. This was Kimimaro's heart's deepest desire, as well as that of Orochimaru-sama's. But, as fate would have it, he was cursed with a fatal disease that made him unsuitable for that purpose. There's really not much to tell beyond-"

"But there is. And I want to hear it all." I hardened my gaze. I didn't mean to intimidate him but at least he'd understand that I wouldn't leave until I got what I wanted.

"If you insist." he glowered at me from behind his glasses. "Kimimaro was born into the Kaguya clan, a clan of bloodthirsty, savage ninjas who could only recognize their own existence through fighting. As ninjas, we all live our lives in the throes of battle, wandering from one encounter to the other, surviving and gaining experience as we go—if we are lucky. However, the Kaguya clan was no more than a bunch of brutes who were hanging on to ideals and values that were not only archaic but decidedly foolish. It cost them their extinction, in the end, in an ill-considered war against Kirigakure."

"How did Kimimaro survive?" I inquired.

Kabuto's mouth curled into a sly smile. "How do you think? Kimimaro was an extraordinary individual with a fascinating bloodline technique called Shikotsumyaku. His chakra could fuse with the calcium in his system, allowing him to alter his own skeletal structure at will, growing extra bones of exceptionally dense consistency in a matter of seconds and using them as weapons."

"This talent of his was probably so rare among his clan, his own blood feared him and what he was capable of, so they kept him in a cell for most of his life as a kid. A cruel childhood indeed. As I said, his clan perished against Kirigakure, and Kimimaro too participated in that fight. Somehow, though, he survived. His technique must have been very potent even at that young age. After the battle, Orochimaru-sama sought him out and took him under his wings."

"And that's how we arrive to the answer of my original question." I interjected, frowning at the lengthy prologue.

"Don't be impatient, Sasuke-kun." Kabuto bent forward in the chair, propping his elbows on his knees. "If you truly wish to understand, then these details are essential. Kimimaro had spent the first eight or nine years of his life contemplating what his life's purpose was. _Who_ he was."

Kabuto lapsed into silence for a minute, pondering something I couldn't decipher from his expression.

"And then Orochimaru-sama came. He gave the boy a life goal, he filled his pointless days with meaning and treated him well, unlike his own clan had done. You can picture Kimimaro's gratefulness and nearly instant dedication to Orochimaru-sama's cause."

There was an out-of-place tinge to Kabuto's voice as he spoke those words, as though they were coming from deep within. They rang heartfelt. As though it wasn't only Kimimaro he was describing.

"He executed every order without question. But then why would he have had any at all? His own ideals were in accordance with those of Orochimaru-sama. They were both searching for the reason behind existence. They both had no qualms about hurting innocent people to accomplish their objective. Kimimaro was the perfect follower for Orochimaru-sama."

Making use of the medical ninja's pause, I mused over what I'd heard and decided to ask point blank about the assumption on my mind.

"Were they sleeping together?"

There. It sounded harsher than I'd intended, but there was no reason to be subtle around Kabuto.

To my surprise, he eyed me with undisguised scorn as he replied.

"Why would you be interested in _that_ information?"

I deliberated my options. I could give a neutral explanation or simply be open about it.

"I think... you know exactly why." I returned his look with an indifferent if a little cold one of my own.

Kabuto didn't so much as blink. "Why don't you ask him yourself?" he suggested, tone inexplicably poisonous.

"You think he would answer truthfully?"

"Has Orochimaru-sama ever been anything but honest to you?"

I reflected on that briefly. "Now that you mention it, no, he hasn't, but this is a... new situation. And even you cannot deny that he has his secrets, and not so few either."

A flimsy reasoning, I was aware. But as much as I wouldn't be unnecessarily subtle, I wasn't inclined to have a real heart-to-heart with Kabuto either.

The medical ninja pursed his lips, but his eyes twinkled as he was struck by an idea. "Then how about using your Dokushin Sharingan on him? Crawling into his memories, unraveling his _emotions_..."

He threw his head back and burst out in a guffaw, unmistakably as he came to the absurd conclusion that I was harboring some manner of girly, mushy, sloppy feelings for his master.

I had half a mind to stifle his amusement by shoving into his face that I was merely making use of Orochimaru's perverse desire of my body, and I intended to collect some data to prepare for how this would change things.

But... an unknown and unaccountable inner obstacle prevented me from saying that. Instead, I swallowed my temper and sneered "Not a bad suggestion, but alas, he'd be perfectly aware of what I am digging for."

His scornful laughter gradually waned, but his good mood seemed to remain.

Calmly, he cast a searching gaze at me before offering his insight. "It may have happened, I have no knowledge of such. Kimimaro-kun, he was endlessly taken with Orochimaru-sama. If it depended on him and his willingness, I definitely deem it possible."

"However." he tilted his head forward and his glasses glinted in the dim candle light "Considering the fact that upon the news of his death, Orochimaru-sama didn't bat an eyelash, nor did he mourn him, virtually, at all, I would say it is highly unlikely. Provided, of course,that we are working with the assumption that having an intimate relationship inescapably forms a certain bond between two people."

A _bond_...

He stood up and approached me with leisurely steps.

"Although, just as a side note... by then, his attention had already been fixated on someone else. You, Sasuke-kun."

As he put his hand on the doorknob, it became clear that he considered the discussion finished.

"Kabuto."

He glanced back at me.

"Have you ever wondered why everyone is disposable to him?" I quietly phrased the unsettling question lurking in my brain.

Kabuto frowned, shaking his head slightly. "But you don't differ from him in this regard, Sasuke-kun. Or have you forgotten? How you had formed a companionship with Naruto-kun and Sakura-chan then severed that connection without remorse? How it no doubt has already crossed your mind to do the same here?" he narrowed his eyes "You and Orochimaru-sama...are quite similar."

How odd that it should be Kabuto who reminded me of my past that had been so thoroughly wearing me down a few weeks earlier. I blamed this on the craftiest of the Sannin, who had been busy befuddling me incessantly for quite some time now.

Unlike after that occasion in the shower, this time there seemed to be no tension between us, and no tendency to avoid him on my part, we just went back to our normal routine with regular trainings. We didn't speak a word of what had occurred, now twice, and if his gaze lingered on me a fraction longer than it was reasonable, I accounted it as my imagination.

However, I couldn't neglect the consequences completely. Would it change anything in his future plans? I hadn't the faintest idea.

And talking about the future...

For one thing, Orochimaru's body was at its limit.

He never confided in me this detail, of course, but it was difficult not to notice the persistent dark circles below his eyes, the markedly increased time he spent in his room, in bed most likely, the fact that lately he had been employing other ninjas exclusively as my training dummies in his own stead, the cups of liquid medicine Kabuto concocted and brought to him without fail and three times as often as about a year before, and his strikingly quick temper.

This alone naturally meant big changes soon.

Moreover, I felt I was ready.

In roughly two and a half years I'd come to possess a technique none of the Uchiha had ever done before. With it, I positively had some surprises in store for my brother. My jutsus were stronger now, equaling those of a jounin, I believed. And with my Kirin as an ultimate trump, I was convinced it was time.

It was time to go search for Itachi. To make him pay his debt: his life.

It thrilled me to no end, the thought of finally confronting him. After so many sleepless nights spent replaying the nightmare he'd arranged for me, the image of countless lifeless bodies around our home, our dead parents, his genjutsu and lastly, his parting words to me.

_"If you want to kill me, curse me, hate me. And live a long and unsightly life. Run away, run away, and cling to your pitiful life. And some day, when you have the same eyes as me, come before me."_

One more practice.

With bitterness, I summoned up the memory of me witnessing my brother during training once. Gracefully he leaped into the air, closed his eyes so as not to rely on his keen Sharingan, and hurled more than a dozen kunais towards the diversely placed targets, sending a few additional ones subsequently to alter the trajectories where it was necessary. He hit the bull's-eye with each.

Converting my younger self's genuine amazement to an inciting twinge of hatred, I copied the movement in the training chamber, acknowledging with a detached sort of satisfaction that my accuracy rivaled that of his.

It wasn't enough. I needed to be _better_.

"Chidori nagashi." I yelled and the electricity, accompanied by the ominous chirping noises, splintered the wooden targets to fragments.

Better.

I recalled some of the immeasurable amount of scenarios I'd invented of how I'd slay him. Each time, it was a battle as gory as I could envision it, with both of us suffering severe injuries until, ultimately, Itachi collapses, unable to get up anymore. And like that, the cruel curse of my life was to be broken. The sun was to be hidden forevermore.

Except...

In those fantasies, I had always been alone, taking him on without help. And no one was waiting for me afterwards.

Until recently.

The familiarity of the path to his room was startling, even though I'd never trod down that corridor with this intention before.

With _no clear_ intention at all.

My eyes flicked from lantern to lantern along the wall, as if hoping they'd supply me with an idea.

Regrettably, they didn't.

"Just wait for a little while, please." Kabuto's concerned voice reached my ears from around the corner, followed by Orochimaru's dark laughter.

Perfect. He was all by himself then.

Waiting for the steps to fade in the distance, I took the last turn and shuffled in front of the door, where I stopped to think.

Under different circumstances...

...

No, I had already decided. Hadn't he warned me multiple times I was too soft? That I needed to get rid of all vestiges of compassion?

As his pained coughs resounded in his room, a deadly calmness crept over me. I'd free him of his misery and take his chakra for myself—a much larger portion than what was already consumed in the cursed seal—, increasing my strength even further and—to my annoyance, my mind shortly flashed back to the haze of our sex, when, quite bizarrely, I craved that we be parts of each other—obtaining and carrying a fraction of him with me. As...a reminder of how it had felt without a single thought of Itachi, without being Uchiha Sasuke, the avenger.

_Damn it. Erase that pathetic notion. It's all very simple. Kill Orochimaru or he'll kill you._

I felt the chakra flare up in my body as my heart committed to the murder intent, and I mechanically unsheathed my sword.

He must have sensed it. This was the moment.

I raised my hand and willed electricity to start flowing, molding its shape long and narrow and dense with energy. It burst through the door smoothly.

As I'd suspected, it didn't impale his body. He still seemed to be able to deflect such powerful attacks.

No matter. With firm slashes I sliced the door to pieces.

He had his arms crossed in front of him, blocking my extended electric spear.

"So it has come down to this, after all." he growled angrily, his face drenched in sweat.

"You have nothing more to teach me." I activated my cursed seal, pleased at how unaffected my own voice rang. "It seems that even while standing before you, I can become heartless."

His eyes pierced mine with fury and desperation and... hurt.

I strolled into the room, keeping the spear in front of me. It cut through his wrists, finally, and he was forced to direct it away from himself, toward the wooden planks covering the wall.

To his credit, he didn't as much groan at his fresh, punctured wounds. He had always been able to endure pain that would normally make people faint. With the exception of his cursed arms, which proved to be an unnatural kind of ache that would rarely leave him unfazed. That he controlled himself so well under the circumstances was admirable.

Nevertheless.

"Orochimaru, you're weaker than me." I stated evenly. "There's no point in giving you my body at this point."

"Says a mere hatchling." he snarled.

I couldn't suppress a smirk. "If I wasn't a hatchling, you would've never had the chance to obtain me, right? You were unable to get Itachi, that's why you set your sights on me. Isn't that right? _Genius of the extolled Sannin_."

His eyes narrowed dangerously, but I railed on, heedless.

"Perhaps the world did consider you a genius, but you could never reach the level of an Uchiha. No matter how much of a genius someone is, they're nothing but mediocre compared to the talents inherent to us. You've drugged yourself and even transferred to different bodies...your methods of acquiring the power of an Uchiha are laughable at best."

"Besides, I dislike your methods. What is your goal? To divulge the truth of this world or for whatever petty, selfish reasons you continue to view people as toys and play around with them. You sicken me!"

And I lunge at him, fuelled by a sudden fit of abhorrence, I swing at him with my Kusanagi-

_No._

Under different circumstances, that would have been how this encounter takes place.

But...

That's not how I wanted it.

I reached for the doorknob and quietly opened the door.


	11. Chapter 10

**_Chapter 10_**

You're so cold, but you feel alive  
Lay your hand on me one last time

Show me how it ends, it's alright  
Show me how defenseless you really are

Breaking Benjamin - So cold

* * *

"Sasuke-kun. I'm in no mood for you right now. Why don't you go polish your mind reading abilities or your Chidori." Orochimaru, apparently crankier than usual, suggested, relaxing into the fairly large pillow his entire back slumped into.

His slit-pupiled eyes flashed in annoyance as I showed no sign of wanting to comply with his wish.

"I'm coming straight from the training pit."

I closed the door behind myself, noting that he was wearing that familiar mahogany shirt, and like I'd seen in my mind's eye, that he was indeed covered in sweat. The ache must have worsened critically.

Perfectly tranquil and unfazed by his sharp gaze, I approached his bed and, after a moment of hesitation, sat down on the edge, facing away from him for the time being.

"What are you doing?" came the icy question from behind.

"Thinking."

"Do it elsewhere, I want to rest."

"No, it has to be here."

A huff, and a sardonic smirk judging from his voice.

"If you're hoping for something like the last time you skulked into my room, then-"

"No. Now, would you just be silent for a minute?"

I needed a little time to figure it out. To figure _us_ out. If we could talk about such a thing as _us_ at all.

Damn. My thoughts sounded as though I were a girl. I flinched inwardly and admonished myself for having gotten entangled in this mess. My needs had clouded my reason and before I knew it, I was entrapped. And the worst part was… I wasn't searching for a way to escape this confinement, no, I intended to make myself at home. In the lair of the snake.

How ridiculous.

My eyes found their way back to his face, and he fixed me with a glare.

Grouchy old man.

I felt laughter bubble up in me, but I squashed it, allowing but a faint smile to reach my features.

"What is with that inane smile? The Sasuke I know doesn't smile for no reason." Orochimaru rasped, scrutinizing me with unsubtle suspicion now.

"I'm not certain I'm the Sasuke you know." I answered half-seriously, and that seemed to inspire even more suspicion, as his body tensed.

I sighed in resignation, waving placatingly at him. "Cut it out, I'm not an impostor, I just meant that I haven't been myself lately."

He reclined onto the pillow, but his frown remained.

"And why is that?"

I inhaled deeply, then let the air out slowly through my mouth.

I wished I could phrase it. But the correct, accurate words eluded me.

As my eyes traveled to the blood splatters staining his chin, a sudden impulse compelled me to stand up and steered my hand to the roll of bandage set to, as always, the bedside table.

I ripped off a small rag. Settling back on the mattress, I extended my arm toward his face.

"You will stop that now, Sasuke-kun, or I'll tear your throat open." he bared his teeth at me, frown deepening.

"Shush."

"I will not tolerate your nursing me as though I were incapacitated."

With a violent jerk of his arm he batted my hand away.

I was a hair's breadth from punching him.

"Just shut up, idiot. You aren't incapacitated, yet you neglect yourself completely. Don't move or I'll blast your head off with a fireball."

Though he kept glaring daggers at me, he ceased squirming away and impeding my efforts, murmuring something that sounded very much like 'as if that worked against me'. I dragged the piece of cloth across his forehead first, drying off the beads of perspiration there, moving down his temples to his cheeks, his neck, lifting his hair a bit to reach the nape of his neck as well. Lastly, I swiped off the blood from his chin.

It was worth it for that widely incredulous—though somewhat wary, as if I were insane—look alone.

"Now, I hope you're satisfied. Leave." he ordered quickly, eyes flickering at the door for emphasis.

I tossed the damp fabric onto the table.

"No. Scoot."

He blinked once, disbelieving. "What?"

"Scoot over." I repeated as I began pulling my sandals off.

"I've told you I'm in no mood to-"

"Me neither. Just do as I said." and after a beat of silence "Please."

That word seemed to shock him into mute compliance.

Crawling on top of the thin white blanket, I nestled against the sizeable pillow, beside him, shoulders almost touching but not quite, both of us facing towards the door.

And we stayed that way for who knows how many minutes, neither of us willing to break the silence that stretched on after my admittedly awkward suggestion.

It was a kind of test. Whether I could stay in the same area with him without wanting to throttle him for his arrogance and ill-temper. And...in all seriousness, whether I was able to forgo killing him, a potential threat to my life, my future and, most importantly, my revenge.

_You and Orochimaru-sama...are quite similar_. Kabuto had noted, and he was right. I was as much a threat to him, as he was to me. If I danced back now and denied him my body, he would die. Or rather, he'd attempt to take it by force.

And I had absolutely no intention of yielding my body.

That train of thought led to only one possible solution. A fight to the death.

But...

And there was that damned _but_ again. However, at long last it dawned on me that if I decided to slay him, I'd bereave myself of the _one and only_ person who understood the blackness in my heart, and didn't feel a compulsive need to cleanse and fill it with something else.

Each look Sakura had ever given me demanded love, or at least the recognition of her feelings, she wanted me to care; all Naruto was talking about since learning of my departure from Konoha was friendship, kinship, something like loyalty even. That I couldn't give these to them, they refused to accept.

Orochimaru, he never sought anything from me. Not in this sense. And I couldn't say he was unconcerned about me either. I had observed his many, many thoughts about me, thoughts that were beyond reason for someone whose sole intention was to make use of my body, extinguishing my existence in the process.

His soul was equally scarred, equally devoid of concern for what constituted morality and immorality, regarding and categorizing everything according to the same basic dichotomy as I did: benefit and hindrance.

We were similar. Didn't that mean we should be companions?

I stared at the door for so long I almost flinched as it suddenly opened.

"I'm back." Kabuto came carrying his customary tray. As he took in the sight of me sitting next to his master, he lost his composure and nearly dropped the valuable medicine as he stomped forward.

"Sasuke-kun! Orochimaru-sama requires rest, please let me give him the medication and leave him in peace."

To my surprise, Orochimaru was fast to answer, chuckling heartily at his favored medical ninja. "It's alright, Kabuto. He can stay."

"But Orochimaru-sama! It would be unwise now to excite yourself. Your body is getting less and less steady and to subject it to any great... exertion could-"

It was rather amusing to watch his face go ruddy as, probably, unwelcome images popped into his head, but sadly, Orochimaru cut in.

"Does it look like Sasuke-kun is exciting me right now?" he purred.

I let out a snort-like laughter.

Kabuto, too embarrassed to continue insisting, simply handed him the glass of—this time dark red—liquid, and after taking the empty cup, hurried out of the room.

"That was funny." I commented, snuggling more comfortably into the pillow.

The immortal shinobi merely hummed in reply.

I absorbed myself in my musings again.

* * *

It was an uneasy feeling in my gut that roused me. Where was I? Right, I must have fallen asleep in Orochimaru's room.

What was happening? Was there an enemy nearby? What was this thick, sick intent to hurt?

My eyes flew open. No one was in the room but Orochimaru and me.

But he was... peering at me peculiarly.

_Starving_.

"What is it?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and carefully inched away from him, closer to my Kusanagi tilted against the side of the bed.

He compressed his lips into a maniac grin.

"I will take your body now!"

Fast. He pounced at me before my fingers could curl around the hilt of the sword, and we both plummeted to the floor, him on top of me, Kusanagi pushed out of reach from the impetus.

While I gasped for oxygen, the rough landing and his weight on me knocking all air out of my lungs, the snakes he summoned with his lightning-quick Sen'ei jashu coiled themselves around my arms and throat. Straddling me on the hips, he ensured I couldn't move.

"Wait..." I wheezed, wriggling frantically in his clutches.

"No. I have waited for far too long. I'll have your Sharingan now!" he snarled into my face, bowing close, very close, leaning on his arms propped next to my head.

"You know it as well as I do you don't want me gone."

His mouth was gaping in a rictus, resembling, now more than ever, a vicious serpent that is about to attack. "You think I'd give up my life's goal, your beautiful eyes in exchange for _you_?"

He struck me across the face with the back of his free hand.

"You think I feel affection for you? That I might _love_ you because I've made you mine?"

He threw his head back in a boisterous laughter at the very idea.

Was I imagining it, or did he actually sound weirdly defensive just now? It would appear I hadn't been the only one doing some thinking of my own.

"Certainly not. You are _incapable_ of love, Orochimaru." I sneered, licking the blood off my lower lip—why did I always end up bleeding when he came this close to me.

"However, you are lonely. I saw it. You try to repress it, to banish it to the recesses of your mind, but it is there, a disease, a dull ache."

Slowly, he shut his mouth and shrugged his shoulder as if saying 'and then what'.

"And I ease that tenacious feeling. Right? It scares you. You have been feeling that prickling emptiness for so long, its lack is too alien, too hard to handle, to accept."

_Tasting what it would be like without the sun's glare._

_Daring to envision hiding its orb forever._

"That's why you came up so unexpectedly with this assault. You want to sunder this bond before it grows any stronger. Because it would make you vulnerable and would definitely hinder your way to perfection."

A wide array of emotions wafted across his face as I was analyzing him. Fury, surprise, daze, resentment, indignation. All the while his body was frozen in indecision.

"But you are already wavering... It confirms what I'm saying." I softened my tone a shade, even as my own words sounded strangely foreign to me. "Orochimaru... it doesn't have to be like this."

"Foolish kid." he spat, the snakes' hold tightening simultaneously "It is a small price to pay. I would rather spend an eternity alone but more powerful than a god, than a short, average life where I have someone who can _ease_ the solitude."

Even through my constricted windpipe, I managed to squeeze out a feeble chuckle.

"I didn't...expect anything less...from you. Fortunately...I know a solution."

The snakes allowed some air, which I avidly took advantage of.

"What? What could you possibly offer?" Orochimaru asked disbelievingly.

I smirked.

"My brother."

A stunned silence ensued. The immortal shinobi gaped at me, dumbfounded.

"How? I thought you meant to kill him." he asked at last, fixing me with a searching gaze.

"I've reconsidered." I answered simply, licking at the blood that had gathered in the small dip below my lips. "Defeating him and handing his body over to you will satisfy me just as well. It may be relatively more difficult to win without killing him, but I believe I can do it."

"Are you...serious?" he arched a brow quizzically.

I released a pained sigh. "I am. Now, would you remove yourself and your snakes from me?"

Lingering for another, eternally long moment, he complied and stood up.

I gently massaged my sore neck, noting that I was almost certainly going to have ugly purple bruises the following day. When I finally got to my feet, our eyes met again.

"Have your men search for Itachi. You won't last much longer in that body."

"Don't order me about." he barked, riled up no doubt that he'd decided to take a risk.

Nonetheless, he strode out of the room, growling a chilly 'wait here' at me. I occupied my spot on the edge of the bed once more.

Despite the unforeseen vehemence of the last minutes, I felt composed, tranquil in the knowledge that I'd accomplished what I wanted. Then again, I didn't delude myself into thinking that everything was solved. I couldn't be certain Orochimaru wouldn't try to transfer to my body at one point, when his patience ran thin. My instincts warned me to be on my guard.

When the immortal shinobi returned, he tarried at the door irresolutely, taking a few steps then halting.

This was new. For both of us.

Still without much conviction, he slinked closer to me, coming to a stop before my sitting form.

He crouched down and put his hands lightly on my knees.

"Your Sharingan." he muttered in a command.

I activated them, intuitively understanding what he wished.

_"Your eyes haunt me... Their power is so astonishing, so sweet, I've neglected everything in order to find a way to obtain them. Ever since I witnessed what it makes your brother capable of, it has been calling to me, mocking me with how close it was, yet impossibly out of my reach. Each time I look at you, I want to rip it out, to rob you of it...can you feel how tremendously I hunger for it?"_

I felt it.

His fingers flexed convulsively around my knees, eyes emblazed as he riveted his gaze on me.

_"However...sometimes...when I'm at my weakest, I feel that this terrible covetousness _pales _in comparison to how I long to have _you_ for myself."_

His pallid hands slid up my thighs, and just like that, my blood began to race. Was it his arousal or my own? Impossible to tell.

_"Not just your body, no. If only it were that simple... I want to have you, from the most trivial fragments of your existence to the most extreme manifestations of your passion. Everything from the rare sparks of joy to the last smoldering embers of hatred. From your smile to your cold curses, everything. I want your everything. To myself."_

Words that Orochimaru would never say out loud. Words he nonetheless allowed me to hear. Each one engraved itself into my mind like a charm, my heart pounding faster concurrently.

For the fraction of a second, I saw us from the outside. Two men, unmoving, unspeaking, transfixed by some sort of an enigmatic spell, gazing at one another and breathing heavier and heavier.

Almost comical.

_"When I choose to indulge my own mindlessness, I imagine abandoning my plans altogether, settling for something inferior to keep you. Can you comprehend how absurd that is? How horribly it maddens me?"_

I felt the spikes of his vexation lashing at himself mercilessly, lulling into reluctant submission as the urges spiraled out of control, only for his ire to flame up with twice the vigor.

"Yes…" I breathed, even though he wasn't expecting a reply.

His fingers inched further, thumbs digging into the grooves of my hiplines through my pants. I bit back a groan and willed him to venture even further and untie my obi. My own hands clawing creases into the sheet, I edged closer to him.

The wild mixture of his red hot anger and lust had an inebriating effect on me. His inner battle, the feral clash between two opposing and mutually exclusive desires enthralled me to the point I couldn't distinguish what was his and what was mine. His turmoil became mine.

For him, to take my body or keep me. For me, to kill Orochimaru—who couldn't teach anything new to me anymore, and was a hindrance with the distraction and threat he posed—or keep him. Wasn't it all the same in the end?

_Come on… try and make me yours again like you boasted you'd done so previously._

How intriguing. Whatever we were outside the privacy of the bedroom, it became utterly irrelevant, because in here, he ached to possess and I to be possessed.

But he wouldn't move. Was he expecting me to…? His thoughts weren't coherent anymore, he left me clueless.

Bastard.

I leaned in and smashed my lips against his, forgetting about the wound he'd split on my lower lip. I winced from the sudden pain, but it quickly waned, insignificant, as he responded instantly and with a passion that equaled mine. After the initial brutality, I drew back a little, allowing our hot, rapid breaths to mingle between us, and I tongued his lips, his jaw, the length of his neck…

He wedged himself in between my legs as tightly as he could, kneeling down, one arm snaking around the small of my back, the other tangling itself in my hair, pulling and guiding my mouth on his flushed skin.

Because it wasn't so deathly pale anymore.

When he grew impatient with my tender treatment, he yanked my head back and descended on my lips roughly, plunging his tongue in and licking the roof of my mouth with greed.

_Fuck me_ I wanted to growl, not feeling ashamed at the blatant vulgarity of it because _that_'s what I was itching for, so hard I was unable to contain the shivers that ran down my whole body.

Was this my arousal or had _his_ seeped into me through his eyes? I didn't care. The two were one and the same.

His lower hand, after loosening my obi, found its way under my shirt, roaming over the expanse of my back as he pulled me flush against him.

I moaned, quite obscenely and loudly, into his mouth in sheer abandon.

His hold around me tensed into a clutch, and, releasing my hair to support himself on one arm, he began to push me onto the bed. Crawling backwards in haste, I grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged it off, ignoring his annoyed grunt for having to let go of me.

We landed in a squirming heap, his lips seeking mine at once, hands wresting my shoulders free of clothing. His mouth then slithered to my chest, leaving a wet streak on its way and he bit hard into my flesh.

I caught a fistful of his hair and jerked his head back to meet his eyes.

_"You won't escape me now." _his gaze, as well as his thoughts assured me, and I was overrun by an irresistible need to laugh.

To escape? Nothing was further from my mind that moment.

My glee evaporated immediately as Orochimaru was abruptly caught in a fit of nasty coughs, blood oozing from between his fingers as he covered his mouth.

His body was at its limit, as I'd conveniently forgotten.

While he was violently gasping for air, I seized him by the arms, and carefully but decisively switched our positions.

His eyes flickered to me in question, and I slanted a smile at him.

We were far too gone, far too submerged in this heady insanity to stop now. The most I could do was ensure he stayed put.

I hooked my index fingers into the hem of his pants and started to pull slowly, savoring the thunderstruck expression on his face as it dawned on him what I was planning.

When he lay spread out and naked in front of me, I leaped at him without hesitation, tracing the curves, dips and bulges of his slender physique with my tongue, taking pleasure in the strong salty taste of his soft skin. The only indication I received that he was enjoying himself was the haphazard alternation of rapid and drawn-out, shallow and deep in his inhalation.

As I arrived to his crotch, I only lingered for a split second to tease him with the whisper of a touch on the flushed, glistening tip of his rigid cock, earning a strangulated gasp, then continued down to his inner thighs.

If his restless fidgeting was anything to go by, I was successfully torturing him. Moving upwards on his sensitive skin, licking each time an inch higher, but falling ruthlessly back to the starting point at every turn.

By the time I was passing my tongue along his entire length, hovering inches over the velvety knob of the head, he'd had his legs wrapped around the small of my back, pulling me forcibly closer.

"Sasuke..." he hissed through gritted teeth.

Surprised he dropped the usual suffix from my name, I took mercy on him and sucked him into my mouth fully, wrapping one hand around the base.

That soundless shudder—as though it was drawn from his very core—spurred me to quit my former cruelty and move in fast, hard strokes, bobbing my head in conjunction with the movements of my right hand. My other hand found purchase on his protruding hipbone.

My thoughts wandered.

This was another man's body in the disguise of Orochimaru's appearance.

To my amazement, I found that I didn't give a shit about that. As long as it was _him_ in it, his soul.

Was the nature of his body negligible to me then?

No… it wasn't. I wanted _his_ lean form, _his_ impossibly white skin, _his _long raven hair, _his_ face, _his_ characteristic snake-eyes, _his_ bloodless lips and thick tongue.

It did matter then, didn't it. But to what degree? If he were in a woman's body, would I lust for him this much?

Maybe. But to be honest, I couldn't imagine it. Virility, after all, was an inseparable part of Orochimaru.

I continued my ministrations with contemplative thoughts whirling wildly in my head, pleased to no end, at the same time, whenever I felt his muscles twitch under my free hand which I roamed over his hips, abdomen and thighs.

Naturally, I'd never done this before. It was pure instinct that guided my movements, stroking, licking and sucking intuitively, following my vague ideas of what would most likely make my own self feel good.

I payed attention not to graze his sensitive skin with my teeth, although I had absolutely no idea if that would hurt or perhaps thrill him even more, tolerant as he was to pain. Nevertheless, I decided I'd find out if he had any masochistic tendencies another time.

When I sensed he was close, I picked up the speed of my synchronously moving hand and mouth, tightening my lips around him as much as I could, while pointedly ignoring the twinging sensation this rather unfamiliar contraction of muscles awakened.

Without warning his hands flew into my hair, gripping my locks so aggressively I started, and as his thrashing subsided into weaker jolts, he spurted his warm and slightly bitter fluid into my mouth.

I swallowed, out of lack of space to spit.

Sitting back on my ankles, I took in his open-mouthed heaving form, cheeks tinted red, eyelids heavy, pupils blown wide and trained vaguely on me. A weirdly bewitching sight. He was totally undone.

However, I wasn't. I was still thirsting for release, the narcotics of lust still coursing through my veins.

Loosening further and then doing away with my obi completely, I pushed my pants as low as it was necessary and pressed Orochimaru's legs together, creating a suitable perch. And right there, straddling his thighs, under his watchful gaze, I began stroking myself, unashamed.

I conjured up the thrilling image that he was taking me in the shower, with him hotter against my back than the steam saturating the air. Then another, him, thrusting into me, facing me on the bed, his eyes aflame as he hit his peak inside me, small tremors shaking his body in that strikingly enticing way.

I let my torso fall forward, supporting myself on my hand as I leaned over him, closer.

Closer.

I was close, in a matter of mere minutes... and that overwhelming need to become one with him rippled through me again, _come to me, don't just leer at me from your pillow, encompass me in your arms, shut out the world, drown the sun's offending rays, let us lose ourselves in this inscrutable and inconceivable reality we've dreamed, come..._

He gripped my hand with his and pulled, his other hand gliding to the small of my back to give me an insistent push.

Like a sleepwalker, I blindly complied, on all fours I dragged myself upwards until he stopped me when my hips were above his chest. He drew me closer.

I widened my eyes.

His tongue slid from his mouth, lengthened by his favorite technique, visibly, and coiled itself tight around my cock.

My heart seemed to beat a bruise into my chest, and I couldn't help a whimper.

He tortuously moved his spiraling tongue up and down my shaft, squeezing in a surpassingly artful manner, but persistently sticking to a slow pace that rendered me into a trembling mess, held securely upright by his , after who knows how many torturous minutes, all at once he pulled me even closer and took me fully into his mouth.

The sensation drove me crazy, that perfect friction, that slickness, that warmth... barely restraining myself, I bucked into him. I didn't last long. I came with a choke-like sound tearing itself from my throat, and I felt him swallow my seed, as I had done.

By then, I was so drained of stamina, I all but collapsed on him, rolling to the side and crawling down in level with him through great exertion.

"That was...a creative use of your tongue-elongating technique." I commented, struggling for breath.

He smirked at me, self-satisfied beyond words.

"I'll have to teach you soft physique modification sometime in the future. So that you can return the favor."

"Shush."

I closed the gap between us and pressed a firm kiss on his lips, intending to keep both our mouths shut so as not to exchange our own tastes.

After this, I would leave and search for Itachi myself.

But the bastard forced his way into my mouth, and would not have me escape a wet, fierce clash of our tongues. I huffed, wanting to bite him so badly, even as my fingers buried themselves in his hair to deepen the kiss. But to injure that deft tongue of his...

Maybe I could stay and rest a few more minutes.

My brother can be damned.

* * *

A/N: Well. The beginning turned out to be a bit comical, not sure how that happened. XD So, to quote Michael Scott, well well well, how the turned tables *long silence*. Sasuke has decided to take matters into his own hands (oh my, that sounded...never mind) and change the original plan of using and disposing of Orochimaru! What do you all think? ^^


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